The Columbian Wasteland
by Guestman
Summary: The Brotherhood is on the rise. A great discovery is made, one that could cement the Brotherhoods position as the dominant power on the East Coast. Teams are sent into the Columbian Wasteland to find new technology. What will they find? First story, so please be gentle. Rated T for safety. Takes place in an AU where Sarah Lyons doesn't die. Find out how.
1. Chapter 1

**AN. Hello all you Fallout fans. This is Guestman here with a new fanfiction. This is my first story to be put onto FanFiction, so please be gentle. Constructive criticism is appreciated, trolls and haters will be ignored. Updates will unfortunately be infrequent for the time being, as I am still in College and other real life things might get in the way. This story will be about exploring a few states that haven't received a lot of love within Fallout Fanfictions. No it isn't Texas, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, or Ohio. I am going to be looking at Virginia and Maryland. But wait, I hear you say. Fallout 3 took place in Virginia, Washington DC, and Maryland. While this is true, there is a whole lot more to both states than was shown in the games, with plenty of interesting set pieces for a tale that has been overlooked in other stories. The events of this narrative are roughly concurrent with the events of Fallout: New Vegas, and references to that game may appear. Thank you to scribblescribblescribble for offering advice, proofreading, and support. As every other person who writes this stuff says it, I do not own Fallout and claim absolutely no profits from it. So without further ado, onto the story.**

"War. War never changes. Throughout history, man has sought to harness newer, more powerful means of killing each other. From bare fists, to rock, to spear, to bow and arrow, to gun, and finally to the atomic bomb, humanities' drive to kill itself more efficiently continued unabated until the mid-21st Century, when the Middle East would destroy itself in a pointless war, the European Commonwealth descended into a gaggle of bickering nation-states, and America and China fought each other over Alaska and its last reserves of oil.

This conflict, the Sino-American War, would lead into the Great War, which lasted only two hours and wiped out the vast majority of the world's population. A select few took shelter in underground vaults constructed by the United States Government under Project Safehouse, and from one of these vaults, Vault 101, emerged the savior of the Capital Wasteland, known to many as the Lone Wanderer and to a select few as Alec Taggart.

The Lone Wanderer had been searching for his father, who had left the Vault in the Capital Wasteland to restart Project Purity, a water purification plant located in the former Jefferson Memorial. The Lone Wanderer found his father after many adventures in Vault 112, a sinister vault under the control of its megalomaniacal Overseer, who had imprisoned all of the Vault residents and his own father into Virtual Reality devices.

After rescuing his father from the Overseer's fell clutches and ending the suffering of the inhabitants, he helped his father restart the project and bring clean water to the Wasteland. Unfortunately, as with many such tales, nothing's ever that easy. The Enclave, a group of people hell bent on making sure they were the only people left in the Wasteland, decided to seize the Project, and killed The Lone Wanderer's father in front of his eyes.

With the aid of the Brotherhood of Steel under Elder Owyn Lyons and the War Robot Liberty Prime, the Lone Wanderer ousted the Enclave from the purifier and restarted it, being knocked unconscious from the massive radiation load. When he came out of his coma, he led the Brotherhood to victory at Adams Air Force Base. For this, he was made a Paladin and eventually a Sentinel within the ranks of the Brotherhood.

With his continued assistance, the slavers, raiders, feral ghouls, deathclaws, mirelurks, hostile super mutants, and other terrible creatures that once roamed these lands freely are on the retreat. Caravans can freely travel between settlements and towns that were once on the brink of extinction are now thriving communities. And that is why, dear grandchildren, you can rest easy at night, for the efforts of those who fought to save the Wasteland have brought you safety and freedom."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN. Here is the new chapter. Enjoy.**

The old man looked at his now sleeping grandchildren, smiled, tucked them into bed, and went to make his reports. Though his grandchildren were young, barely a year and a half old, they had shown remarkable precocity for their age, which made him confident that they would be great leaders of the Brotherhood. For he himself was Owyn Lyons, Elder of the East Coast Brotherhood of Steel Chapter, and, since the Enclave had been kicked out and some measure of order had been restored, the de facto head of state of the Capital Wasteland.

Despite that, in recent months, due to his advancing age, his daughter Sentinel Sarah Lyons had taken on the lion's share (he had to restrain himself from laughing at that terrible pun, it wouldn't do to have the Elder of the East Coast Chapter giggling like a little girl) of the day to day duties that came with running both the military and government of this nascent nation, freeing him to focus on the bigger picture.

Right now, he had to make his second report since losing contact with the rest of the Brotherhood Chapters. It had come as something of a surprise when he suddenly got a message from the West to report on the situation in the Capital Wasteland a few weeks ago. He was definitely starting to feel his age these days, as his body, which had held strong for decades started to fail on him. But he wasn't dead yet, his mind was still sharp, and there was still work to be done.

Nevertheless, he felt quite winded when he finally made his way to the room of the Citadel that had been set aside for communication. He nodded to the Knights and Scribes on duty, who reassured him that the signal was strong enough today to make contact with the other Chapters. He sat in the seat in front of the radio, and listened. "Authenticate," was the phrase he heard on the radio.

He gave his authentication code, and listened as the other Elders gave theirs. He heard the High Elder, Jeremy Maxson, father of Jonathon Maxson and grandfather of young Squire Arthur, cough harshly and then begin to speak.

"Elders of the Brotherhood of Steel, I bring grave news from the West. The NCR, in their expansion East and North, have driven us from our bunkers in the Lost Hills. The state of Maxson is lost. We have been on the run for the last two weeks and are uncertain when or even if we shall escape. Your orders if we are not heard from in the next report are to continue the mission of the Brotherhood, and to preserve the ways of our Codex. What news comes out of the other Chapters?"

Lyons was stunned by that announcement. The Lost Hills were sacred to the Brotherhood, being where Roger Maxson, the first High Elder of the Brotherhood had led his troops after the Great War. It had been the center of all Brotherhood life, where all decisions and edicts had been carried out from, and to hear it was gone shook him to his very core. He vaguely heard from the other Elders, and what he did hear was not encouraging, as they were being systematically wiped out as well, especially from the Mojave Chapter. He was in a daze until it came time to report on his Chapter.

"Our Chapter has made great strides in technology, having consolidated much of what the Enclave here held into our own forces, taking research that they were working on and pouring over it, with help from the locals. We have driven the Super Mutants, deathclaws, mirelurks, raiders, slavers, and feral ghouls in the region out of the Capital Wasteland and continue to consolidate the region into an organized state. Thanks to recruiting from the locals, our ranks have swelled and now number at over 8,000 active Brotherhood members, with a further 2,000 in reserve.

"We have approximately 100 Vertibirds captured from the Enclave along with command over a series of satellites capable of orbital bombardment, a series of space ships, as well as Liberty Prime (he declined to mention that they were repairing Liberty Prime, the completion of which was not within the foreseeable future, they were still trying to understand how to fly the spaceships, and the Satellites only had a few shots left). Those designated to fly and maintain them, whom we have designated Lancers, have just a few weeks ago gotten out of training to do so. We have achieved our mission to the East while at the same time protecting the people already here," he reported, unable to help a hint of pride creeping into his voice at that last part.

His Chapter had been effectively disowned by the main detachment of the Brotherhood back west after Elder Lyons had declared that the mission to recover technology was secondary to the mission of protecting the people of the Wasteland. When he had first announced the results of having defeated the Enclave, none of the rest of the Elders could believe it and the High Elder remained silent for the longest time until, quite begrudgingly congratulating Lyons for his leadership.

Silence followed his report, and then, the words of Maxson, "Owyn," he began, "I cannot condone what you have done. You have gained much in the preceding years, and while certainly admirable, you did it through the abandonment of everything that we hold dear. You barely hold to the codex anymore, and I cannot allow that any further. Therefore, it is the decision of the Council of Elders that…" and it was at that moment that the High Elder was interrupted, as a harried looking Scribe burst into the room, carrying a set of papers.

"What is it, Scribe?" Elder Lyons asked.

"Sir, Scribe Rothschild found this while looking through the data the Enclave had stored on their mobile crawler. You need to see it." Elder Lyons took the papers, skimmed through it at first, and then began reading much more intently a second time.

With that, he turned to the radio again and began speaking. "Gentleman, I have just received a most intriguing report from my Scribes. They tell me that they have found in the Enclave archives reports of research facilities and factories of the prewar military that had escaped damage during the war. Thanks to us, the Enclave never gained access to these facilities. They are dotted all over the Columbian Wasteland."

The other Elders were once more silent, contemplating the information that Lyons had just reported to them. "Furthermore, I shall be organizing expeditions to these sites in order to recover the technology there. Now that the situation in the Capital Wasteland has stabilized, we can start searching for technology again. We will keep you updated as developments occur. Lyons out."

Lyons ended his conversation and turned to one of his knights manning the station and said, "Send a message to all members of the Brotherhood not on essential missions. I want you to relay this: "All Brotherhood of Steel personnel not on essential missions are to return to the Citadel for an important announcement concerning our future ASAP. Those on missions will be briefed upon their return."

"Yes sir," the Knight responded and move to execute the orders of his Elder. Whether Elder Lyons knew it or not, he had just changed the fate of the entire Eastern Seaboard, perhaps even the entire Wasteland, forever.

 **AN. Yes, the Lone Wanderer did give the Brotherhood Mothership Zeta.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN. Hello, buenos dias, selamat pagi,** **labrīt, hallo,** **cześć, and guten tag to everyone who reads this story. Wow, I wasn't expecting so many people to read my story so quickly. Thank you, all of you for taking time out of your day to read this story. And without further ado...**

The Lone Wanderer, Alec Taggart, was relaxing in his home in Megaton with his dog (creatively named Dogmeat) after coming back from a patrol at the borders of the Capital Wasteland. He'd be heading back to the Citadel soon, but for the moment he just wanted to rest. He was bored out of his mind at the moment.

Oh it had been a hard campaign, dealing with the slavers of Paradise Falls, the Talon Company Mercs of Fort Bannister, all the raiders, most of the feral ghouls, and the hostile Super Mutants of Vault 87, the downfall of the Enclave and the seizure of the orbital bombardment arrays were all tough adventures. This wasn't even countingg the capture of an alien spaceship and smaller scouts that the Brotherhood were even now still studying, his adventures in Point Lookout, freeing the denizens of the Pitt both from slavery and from the trog condition, and the rise of the Brotherhood of Steel as the de facto government of the Capital Wasteland, there just weren't any new things to do.

Still, he was in a way glad that nothing big had been happening. The trade caravans ran on time, the settlements were starting to regrow, the local wildlife was being driven away from the well traveled routes, and even the vegetation seemed to be coming back, slowly but steadily.

Unfortunately, as he was well aware, the Chinese once had a saying that went something like, "May you live in interesting times," with the implication being that "interesting" meant "perilous." And for him, life was about to become VERY interesting.

It started off relatively innocuously enough, with a radio call, "All Brotherhood of Steel personnel not on essential missions are to return to the Citadel for an important announcement concerning our future ASAP. Those on missions will be briefed upon their return." The radio installed in his Pip-Boy ended with that, and he got ready to move. He put the fusion core into the armor (He didn't need to, as the armor's reactor still had fuel in it, but it was a good idea to have some redundancy), opened it up and got in.

His armor, a captured example of the Enclave Hellfire Armor with a T-51b helmet, powered up. Thusly equipped, he bade farewell to Wadsworth and began making his way to the gate with Dogmeat trotting by his side. There he met up with other Brotherhood of Steel members who were on leave in Megaton. A set of helipads had been built just outside of town and a radio had been erected in one of the sentry posts to act as a control tower. At that moment, four Vertibirds were making their way to Megaton.

At one point, this would have inspired panic, but now it was just another aspect of life in the Capital Wasteland. The pilots who flew them had only finished VR Training a few weeks ago, and made transport a lot faster and safer between the various settlements. He loaded up with the five others, got Dogmeat on, and waited through the process of takeoff. Once that went through, the pilot accelerated the throttles, lifted off, and once he had gained enough altitude, tilted the rotors down and began the flight to the Citadel.

Within six minutes they had arrived at the Citadel, and for the first time it dawned on him just how important this was, seeing all his fellow Brotherhood members around. Many new faces and some old ones milled about in the central portion of the Citadel. Among the higher officials on the erected platform was his wife and mother of his two children, Sentinel Sarah Lyons (she had elected to keep her maiden name, something Alec had no objections to).

He smiled under his helmet, walked over to her and saluted. "Ad Victoriam, Sentinel Lyons."

She turned to him and said, "Ad Victoriam, Sentinel Taggart. It is good to see you again."

"Oh come on, I've only been gone for a few days," Alec quipped.

"Even so, it's still good to see you again," Sarah replied.

"Fair enough, so anyways, what's going on? How are the children doing?"

"The children are doing fine, but they miss their father deeply when he has to leave. As for what's going on, I have no idea. Elder Lyons is being tight-lipped about what has been going on, most of the other Knights, Scribes, and Paladins don't have any idea either, and the one's that do refuse to talk about it."

As they had been talking, a loud voice called out, "Attention!" All the Brotherhood members snapped to attention, and in strode Elder Lyons. He walked up the steps (with, as Alec noted, some difficulty) and moved to the podium.

He cleared his throat and began to speak. "My fellow Brothers and Sisters, I am pleased to bring you all incredible news. As you all know, our order has grown greatly over the last few years, and I could not be any prouder of all of you. We have grown from a few hundred to over 8,000 soldiers and aviators. We have defeated the Enclave once and for all, and have brought order where there was little in this land. We have brought pure water to the people. We have made great discoveries. And today, our Scribes have made a great discovery, one of the greatest in the history of the Brotherhood of Steel.

"Within the wreckage of the Enclave's Mobile Crawler, we have found data, data which reveals something quite extraordinary. To the North, West, and to the South of the Capital Wasteland are facilities, research facilities of the prewar military that have been untouched by the Great War and by 200 years of neglect have been found. As the situation in the Capital Wasteland is now stable enough to do so, we will be sending expeditions to these sites to recover whatever may be found in them. Do we have any volunteers?"

All the assembled Brotherhood stepped forward, from the youngest and greenest initiates to the most wizened old veterans. "I admire your enthusiasm, but unfortunately I can only send a relative few of you on these expeditions. Once the teams have been decided upon, they will go on their journeys. Dismissed." And with this, Elder Lyons left the stage and went into the Citadel.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN. Bonjour and Salut to the readers from France and Romania. Onto the show:**

Elder Lyons made his way to his private quarters, having made his speech to the Brotherhood. He had spoken with Scribe Rothschild earlier as to the locations of the sites they would be sending expeditions to. He would be sending his best Sentinels to lead these expeditions, and soon after he had closed the door, the two people he was expecting knocked. He told them to enter, and they did, standing at attention before his desk. "At ease. I was about to call for you two, for I want you both to lead the expeditions."

Both nodded, and he continued. "These are maps that contain the intelligence we have so far." He passed the maps to the Sentinels, and then once they had begun perusing them, he continued, "To the North is a location that was once known as the Aberdeen Proving Ground. It was used to test ordinance, armor, and chemical weapons. To the West is the SCBI in what was once Front Royal, Virginia who were used as a reserve of plant and animal life, and the Museum of Aviation in what had been Chantilly, VA. To the South is the Radford Army Ammunition Plant, Fort Lee, Quantico, and Norfolk, which are ammunition, robotics and ammunition, precision firearms, and naval and aviation technology respectively.

"Alec, I'm going to send you South and West, and Sarah, I want you to go North to the Aberdeen Proving Ground. According to the records, there are sets of Power Armor and experimental weaponry in storage there, hopefully enough to equip everyone in the Brotherhood for the foreseeable future." This was quite important, he thought. With the huge influx of new recruits, there simply wasn't enough Power Armor and good quality weapons to equip everyone.

"I'll leave you both to decide on your contingents. We'll be sending groups of around 50 in 10 vertibirds each. Sarah, once you've recovered technology from Aberdeen, you are to go South and join with Alec.

"Alec, I'd like you to go to the Museum of Aviation first and the SCBI second. The Museum of Aviation is an offshoot of the Museum of Technology built in 2003, in what was once Chantilly, Virginia. It was associated with Washington Dulles International Airport. With any luck, you'll find more airplanes and the blueprints for them in the museum archives. As for the SCBI, our data on it indicates it's something called an Envirovault."

"An Envirovault, sir?" "A vault that was meant to preserve entire ecosystems from the bombs," Elder Lyons replied, "With any luck, there might be some crops among them that we could use to improve the crop yields of the settlements. Also, talk with Scribe Rothschild before you go on your expeditions, he will give you more info on the sites and upload the maps to your pipboy Alec and your armor Sarah. Dismissed."

Alec and Sarah saluted, and left his office. He knew they would succeed, and wondered of the things they would find.

As they were walking away, Sarah turned to Alec and said, "So, Sentinel Taggart, who are you going to be choosing for your expedition?"

Alec smiled and said, "Well obviously Cross, Fawkes, and Charon. I definitely want to take Dogmeat here with me as well." Dogmeat let out a happy bark at hearing his name. Alec smiled and continued, "As for the rest, I'd better speak with Paladin Gunny how his initiates are coming along."

"You want to bring raw recruits with you? Are you sure that's wise?" Sarah asked. Although she had softened her views on the issue since meeting and wedding Alec, she was still a little skeptical of the Knights, Paladins, Scribes, and Lancers who were Wasteland born as opposed to native Brotherhood of Steel.

"Well, these guys are better trained than the recruits who were in when I first joined, so I feel relatively confident about that. Besides, it'll do them some good to get some real experience." With that, Alec turned and left to go catch up with Paladin Gunny.

Sarah shook her head and went the other way to go find Scribe Rothchild. She passed through crowded halls, seeing numerous new faces and a few old ones, all saluting as she went by. She returned each one in turn, even though it grew tiresome after the first ten times this happened. Once she reached the Laboratory, she found Rothchild and walked up to him. "Ad Victoriam, Scribe Rothchild."

"Ad Victoriam, Sentinel Lyons," Rothchild replied, "I was wondering when you would arrive. Will Sentinel Taggart be joining us today?"

"Not right now, Scribe, Sentinel Taggart stated that he first wanted to pick out the Knights, Paladins, and Initiates he wanted to bring on his expeditions."

"…Right, anyways, we have some preliminary photographs of your intended destination. If you would follow me," Rothschild beckoned.

They walked over to a projector, which Rothchild powered up and began showing her photos of the preliminary reconnaissance. "As you can see from these images, the old Aberdeen Proving Ground occupies two peninsulas. From the data we have gathered, the upper peninsula is the most likely to contain the Power Armor and experimental weaponry. The records we found indicate that there are around 20,000 sets of T-51B and T-60 Power Armor at the site, along with thousands of examples of laser weaponry that was being developed at the time of the Great War as well as the equipment to make more."

Sarah had sucked in a breath at the mention of just how many sets of Power Armor were in the Proving Grounds, and at all that weaponry. "In addition to recovery of armor and weaponry on the upper peninsula, you are also to investigate the lower peninsula. It was used for chemical weapons testing."

Sarah winced at that, and Rothchild nodded. "Indeed. Research was being done there in regards to FEV. This means a potential for Super Mutants, so be wary as you enter. As you can see, the base is otherwise undisturbed, which gives us confidence that there is still Power Armor there. However, we must also question why. As such, some of the bases automated defenses would have had to have survived, so please be careful."

"I will Scribe," Sarah replied.

"That is all, Sentinel. Ad Victoriam."

"Ad Victoriam," and with that, Sarah left, contemplating the mission she had been given."

 **AN. Credit to scribblescribblescribble for the concept of the Envirovault. Please review and tell me what you think.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN. Sorry for the wait. Dia dhuit, hell** **ó, zdravo, and oi to those who read this story. This is unedited, so if there are any mistakes, please let me know. Onto the story.**

Sentinel Taggart made his way to the Bailey, watching the new recruits going through their training, some doing basic exercises, some doing close quarters combat training, some practicing their marksmanship, and a few Senior Initiates taking classes in how to do specialized jobs, such as EOD, Scouting, Forward Artillery Observer, Demolitions, Combat Engineering, etc. Gone were the days when enlistees were given merely a scant week and a half of training and sent out onto the Battlefield with the hope that they'd survive their first ten minutes in combat only slightly injured.

Now that the Brotherhood could afford to give longer, more extensive training to the new recruits, they were performing equally as well as any member born into the Brotherhood of Steel, and in some cases were performing even better. It helped that several of the newer recruits had already been experienced fighters in their own rights. After all, surviving in what had been a hostile hell hole sort of required some degree of skill in and of itself. They often excelled in tests that other recruits found difficult, and for that reason they were earmarked as candidates for potential recruitment into the Lyon's Pride.

And it was in the middle of training (some might say torturing) Senior Initiates and Journeyman Knights that Taggart found Paladin Gunny, screaming invective at them as they continued to do their exercises. "Come on, you worthless fish, my dead grandma Mrs. Gunny could do more pushups than you, move faster!"

As he continued to exhort his men to perform their push-ups with ever more vigor, he noticed the Sentinel walking over to his position. "Initiates, attention!" he yelled. The Senior Initiates and Journeyman Knights all got up and saluted, although many did so wearily.

"Paladin Gunny," Taggart stated.

"Sentinel Taggart," came Gunny's curt reply.

"I would like your opinion on who to bring along for the expedition."

"You want to bring some of these little fish?" asked Gunny.

"Sure, these Senior Initiates and Journeyman Knights are towards the end of their specialized training, and they could use the experience. Who would you recommend towards that?"

Gunny thought for a few minutes, looking at each member of the group, weighing their relative merits and faults. He came to his decisions and then went through the formation and told the chosen members to come forward. Taggart looked at them, standing at attention in front of him.

Gunny walked up to him, and introduced the candidates in front of him. "This is Journeyman Knight Ren, he is training to be a Scribe. Not my best work admittedly, but he isn't the worst performer. He excelled in his courses, so if you need someone with technical skills, he's your guy."

He moved down the line to the next Initiate, and said, "This is Senior Initiate Rhys. Also not the worst, but not the best at PT, but he has good mechanical skills and is a good shot with a laser rifle." And so the process went, Gunny going down the line, telling of the various Initiates strengths and weaknesses. Some beamed at his praise, some shrunk at his criticism, but overall it appeared most were confident.

Finally, they came to the last Senior Initiate. "And last but not least, this is Senior Initiate Danse. I forsee great things for him, he is a decent leader, did well on his PT scores, and is a keen shot with a laser rifle." Sentinel Taggart inspected Danse himself, and he could swear there was something of someone else he had seen before in this Senior Initiate. He shrugged it off as a coincidence though.

Taggart announced to the group, "You ten are lucky, you will be joining me on my expedition. We will be leaving in a few weeks' time, so if any of you have any last affairs to get in order, I suggest you do so soon."

With that, he went to go find some other members to come along on the expedition. He went and talked to each member of the Brotherhood he wanted to bring with him and ultimately came up with the 37 other members of the expedition he wanted alongside him. With his roster taken care of, he went to see Scribe Rothchild about what he should expect on his expedition.

 **AN. Please review and follow. Someone mentioned Proctor Quinlan and Proctor Ingram in the reviews. Don't worry, they'll have a part to play. Also, if you've played The Pitt, remember how there was something recovered from The Pitt but Elder Lyons is the only one who knows what it was? I'm thinking of including it in the story, but I'm not sure at this moment what I want it to be. If you have any suggestions, leave your ideas in the reviews and I'll take them under consideration. If it's a good one, it will make it into the story.**

 **Side note: Yes, Danse was trained under Paladin Krieg and was friends with a guy named Cutler. For the sake of continuity, let's say that Krieg was their drill sergeant in Basic Training while Gunny handles them after Basic. Let's also say Cutler was one of the Initiates that Gunny brought forward.**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN.** 你好 Hello.

 **I'm sorry I haven't put anything up recently. I've been very busy these last few days. I had to force myself to write this and it hasn't gone through any editing, so if you see any problems, canon, grammar or otherwise, please let me know in the review section. With that said, onto the show.**

As he walked through the Citadel, Taggart couldn't help but think back to the first time he had been here. Back then, he had just witnessed his father get killed by the Enclave (he still teared up a little thinking of it) and he had helped escort Dr. Li and the surviving scientists of Project Purity there. In spite of his misery, he summoned up the will to complete his father's dream. He had gotten information and Power Armor training from the Brotherhood, and had set out to find the GECK. And that, he mused, had been the start of something great.

By the time he had finished with his musings, he was in front of the door leading to the research facilities. Taggart took a deep breath and entered. Even though he had done much for the Brotherhood's cause over the last four years, Scribe Rothchild was still quite frigid towards him. Taggart didn't always get the impression that he much cared for the more altruistic aspects of Elder Lyons leadership, but he was loyal and competent in his duties, if nothing else.

To tell the truth, Scribe Rothchild WAS annoyed by the Lone Wanderer. Too much of a maverick to his tastes, sometimes flippant with the orders he was given, but he still brought results when they were needed, so he was typically given a pass by Elder Lyons. Furthermore, he was an outsider to the Brotherhood of Steel, and even though he, like many other members of the East Coast chapter had had to soften their views on the matter, he could not fully get over his ingrained prejudices against outsiders to the Brotherhood. Still, he had a job to do, and he would do it to the best of his abilities.

"Ad victoriam, Sentinel Taggart," he said. "Ad victoriam," Taggart replied. "So, what did the reconnaissance flight show for the Museum of Aviation and the SCBI?"

"If you would follow me, Sentinel..," Rothchild replied. They proceeded to the same display he had earlier used to give Sentinel Lyons her briefing. If only Sentinel Taggart had been there at the same time then he wouldn't have to do this twice. He could have been studying the Spaceship. Oh how he could have been studying the spaceship. They could fully reestablish relations with the West with it. If only they knew how to fully fly it. Of course, with the pace they had been studying it, they hadn't even learned how to get it to move, much less how to fly the much smaller scout ships.

"As you can see from these preliminary photos, Dulles Airport appears to be intact. There is no sign of significant damage above the norm for the Wasteland. However, there is something that is concerning."

With that, Rothchild took out a collapsible pointer and tapped on several points of the display. "At these locations, we have noticed artillery and anti-aircraft emplacements, as well as signs of recent habitation. In addition, I would like to direct your attention to this." Rothchild took the pointer and circled an area around one of the former hangars.

"As you can see, there are skid marks here. Recent skid marks. That means that whoever lives here potentially has access to aircraft. Be careful as you make your way there."

"Understood," the Lone Wanderer said.

"Now, onto the SCBI. As you can see, the situation at the SCBI appears to be the exact opposite of Dulles. There are absolutely no signs of recent habitation and the surrounding area is bare, except for one thing." He pointed to the areas of green on the photograph.

"The images taken seem to show vegetation unlike any we have seen prior to this point." Taggart looked at the image closely and realized he was looking at trees. This was surprising for him because the only place he could remember seeing trees was at Point Lookout, with Harold being the origin of those trees.

"Anyways, the Envirovault's entrance is to the South of the Southernmost building here." Rothchild pointed to the entrance on the map. "I've uploaded a map of the area to your Pip-Boy. While you are in the area, you are to make contact with any of the locals and to bring up the possibility of trade with them. That is all I had to say. Ad Victoriam Sentinel."

"Ad Victoriam."

At that moment, the voice of Paladin Bael came over the radio. "To all Brotherhood personnel within the Citadel, there are a group of Outcasts outside holding a white flag. What should I do?"

"Well, Senior Scribe, it looks like things are getting more interesting by the day. Shall we go and investigate?"

 **AN. As always, please review and follow.**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN. I am so terribly sorry for the delay. This chapter just would not come together for some time, and, with the assistance off Scribblescribblescribble, here it is. The intermission is over, and so the next chapter begins.**

"So many surprises these days," thought Elder Lyons. As he trudged to the front gate, he gave a call to Bael, stating, "Let them through Paladin, just make sure that they keep their weapons slung."

"Yes sir," Paladin Bael responded.

After the main schism which had occurred in 2276, their former comrades who had formed the Outcasts fought his detachment at every opportunity. To have them now at what was essentially the front door was surprising, to say the least.

Once in the Courtyard, he took in the sight of the men and women in front od him. All were dressed in the red and black armor of the Outcasts and at their front stood a man with his helmet off **.** This man was Henry Casdin. He looked at the man who had once been his brother and said, "Protector Casdin."

"...Elder Lyons," Casdin replied.

Everyone present in the Courtyard stiffened at the slight and looked at Lyons. His face was blank, but everyone could see a momentary twitch in his eyes.

"It is...good to have you back, Protector, I'm afraid that my time to be with you today is brief, for there is much that needs to be done."

"Elder...Lyons, if I may be frank. We know about your expeditions."

Once more, everyone stiffened, including Elder Lyons.

"...Where did you hear of that?"

"It wasn't that difficult, we've been listening in to your radio calls for some time now and had heard over the radio that you had reestablished communication with the West. In addition, we heard the conversation that took place between the Council and yourself. Even though it hurts for me to say it... you had a point."

Well, this was turning out to be a most intriguing experience for Lyons. Within the last forty eight hours, he received news of great centers of technology and their locations, had his forces take preliminary photo reconnaissance of their locations, and now it appeared that the schism that had divided the ranks of the Brotherhood on the East Coast might finally be over.

Casdin's next few words confirmed his suspicions.

"We want in on the expedition."

And that right there was the opportunity Lyons was waiting for.

"You left because we weren't pursuing technology and struck out on your own. While I wish to welcome you back with open arms, I am not so sure of your motive. How do we know that you will not simply run under the cover of night with more of our technology?"

"Because I am a realist. You have at your disposal perhaps the greatest fighting force on this coast. With as few members as we have left, there is no way we could hold out."

Lyons wondered how much of this was sincere, but ultimately decided to give the former Paladin the benefit of the doubt. In spite of the great numbers of troops that had joined and were still joining, regaining the other 300 or so surviving members of the original expedition would add an additional cadre from which they could train the next generation of the Brotherhood. Plus, it would help to further legitimize his viewpoint with the Western Chapters of the Brotherhood. Of them, the only one that had even halfway approved had been the Midwestern Brotherhood, but they had fractured and were now but a shadow of their former self.

"If you would like to rejoin with the Brotherhood, I need further reassurances that you are proceeding in good faith."

"...Fine, but we demand some other things in return."

"If you wish to negotiate anything, we should continue this conversation in my office."

Lyons then spotted Alec Taggart approaching from the research facilities.

"Sentinel Taggart, if you would please escort Protector Casdin and his entourage to my office, there are matters that must be discussed."

"Yes sir," Taggart replied, "Protector, if you would follow me."

As they left, Rothchild walked up to Elder Lyons and asked, "Owyn, are you sure this is a good idea? Given the fact he betrayed our order once, what makes you so sure he won't do it again?"

Lyons sighed, turned to Rothchild, and said, "The time for conflict has passed, and now is the time for reconciliation. He seems genuine in his desires, if still as headstrong as ever. The schism may soon be healed and with it, access to some of the technology stolen from us returned. It is time for our order to heal the old wounds and welcome those who left back not with swords drawn, but with open arms."

 **AN. Yes that last bit was in part a reference to the sentiments expressed in Lincoln's second inaugural address. It might not be immediate, but I'm thinking of a side story where the Brotherhood send scouts using the scout ships from Mothership Zeta to other countries to see what's left of them. If anyone has any suggestions for a country and why they might be interesting to visit in a Fallout esque universe, leave a review stating the country and your reason. In addition, I'm still open to suggestions for what was recovered from the Pitt.**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN. Namaste and Zdravstvuyte to the readers from India and if any are reading, to the readers from Russia, and welcome to Chapter 8 of this tale. Onto the story.**

After taking the Outcasts to Elder Lyon's office and catching a ride on a vertibird to the remains of what had once been the National Mall, Taggart looked around him. Where once tourists and joggers once tread, now there was but a few Brotherhood Soldiers and some ghouls. Even after the defeat of the Enclave, things remained tense in this part of the Capital Wasteland.

The Brotherhood and indeed most of the unaffected part of the population still thought incredibly negatively of ghouls and super mutants. It didn't matter to them if one or even a couple dozen were friendly or at the least sane, they were all enemies and tended to get more than their fair bit of ammo shot at them.

However, things had been getting somewhat better of late. There was an unspoken agreement between the sentient ghoul population and the other inhabitants of the wasteland. "Live and let live. If that son of a bitch fired first, he deserves everything coming to him."

It was with this in mind that kept Taggart on his toes at all times in this part of the former Capital. It wasn't likely, and he was recognizable enough in his armor, but all it took was one itchy trigger finger for a fight here. It was like one of the old Western holotapes, except here it was with laser pistols and not drunk.

He stood before the entrance to the Museum of American History, and smiled in spite of himself. He had gotten one of his most favorite weapons from here, the weapon of a former American President, before that set of words became tainted forever in the lexicon of the Wasteland.

"Halt! Identify yourself sightseer!" came a familiar raspy cry.

"Stand down Willow, it's just me," exclaimed Taggart.

"What are you doing here, human?"

"I'm here to see a few friends for a mission."

"Watch yourself, smoothskin."

"I will, Willow, it was good to talk to you again."

And with that, Taggart entered Underworld. Ever since he had convinced the Brotherhood to stop persecuting them, the ghouls had allowed Brotherhood members into the Museum to search the archives and to study the exhibits, but it was always under heavy guard, and never many at a single time.

"Taggart, how are you today?" came a loud and booming voice.

Taggart turned, and saw one of the people he was looking for.

"Fawkes, how has life been treating you?"

"Equitably, my good man."

"Have you seen Charon around here anywhere? I've got an offer for both you and him."

"He's at the Ninth Circle drinking."

"Again? I keep telling him that stuff'll get him killed someday," Taggart said.

"Why would it? Given the greater tolerances of super mutants and ghouls, it'd take a lot more to get us drunk."

"...Fair point."

They walked into the Underworld's bar, and found Charon at the bar itself, drinking what looked to be his fifth stein of alcohol.

Ever since Ahzrukhal had bought it from a bullet to the head courtesy of Charon, the Ninth Circle had been run by Greta who now owned both it and Carol's Place. The general atmosphere in Underworld had grown a lot more optimistic after that, as Ahzrukhal had been doing many things in order to make people miserable, and therefore buying alcohol and chems from him.

It had been a tidy little operation on his part, but all that had changed when Taggart had showed up. He had bought Charon's contract off of Ahzrukhal, and Charon, no longer loyal, immediately took his revenge for years of abuse. It just goes to show that one should never treat one's subordinates like trash, it just might come back to bite you in the ass.

"Hey Charon, how are things?"

"Boring, there's nothing to do."

"Well, I think I can do something about that right now. We've got a mission."

"What's the mission?"

"Before I start, is there anywhere more private that we can take this conversation. I trust most of the people here, but operational security and all of that nonsense."

"Yeah, sure. The Museum of History Offices should do," Charon suggested.

"Lead the way," Taggart replied.

And with that, they all began heading through the Museum to the offices. This walk was once infested with Feral Ghouls and Reavers, but it was now just a quiet stroll through what had once been an impressive museum dedicated to a long dead nation.

Once they made it to the Offices, Taggart began explaining the mission, of how they had recently reestablished contact with the main Brotherhood detachments back West and how poorly they were fairing. He supposed he should have kept that particular fact under wraps, but he had always been one for being honest whenever possible. He then described the mission itself, of how they would be venturing out past the Capital Wasteland into the area that had once been the Columbian Commonwealth.

"While out there, we are to recover technology from the Museum of Aviation and the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute as well as establish contact with whatever survivors are out there and to establish trade with them. Any questions?"

"While I'm flattered that you considered us for this mission, how well do you think most of those communities out there are going to react to us? Because at least around here, people don't like us. If it weren't for you, I don't think we would ever be tolerated."

"We'll make it work, somehow. People just need to realize your outward appearance does not make anyone inferior or evil by nature," Taggart emphatically stated.

"I hope so. I sure do hope so," Fawkes replied.

"Alright, I'm in. It's not like I've got anything better going on here," Charon responded.

"I too shall join you on your journey, and may we benefit the people of these lands," Fawkes opined.

"May we meet success on our journey," Taggart replied with a smile.

Little did they know that much was going to occur within the next few months, and that nothing on the East Coast would ever be the same.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN. こんにちは to the readers from Japan. I'm sorry for not posting for some time. I had gotten overly ambitious with this part of the story, and it was getting bigger than I'd intended. So, this part of the story will be separated into two separate chapters. Without further ado, enjoy.**

Amata was not having a good time. Ever since she had taken her position as Overseer of Vault 101 from her father, she had found herself regretting that decision with growing passion with every day that passed. When she had made her demands for the freedom of her people from the Vault, she had not known of the dangers of the outside world. Further, she found that she couldn't spare anyone leaving. Nevertheless, some did, and the Vault had been struggling to survive as a result of their decision. Thus, she was forced to make one of the toughest choices she had ever made in her time as Overseer. Well, aside from that decision. She would have to leave the Vault and go to negotiate with the local settlement for trade and supplies.

In spite of her insistence on isolation with the world outside, she had still occasionally gotten the odd piece of news and transmission from the outside. One of the worst that she had ever heard was the marriage ceremony between Sarah Lyons and her former love, Alec Taggart. It had pained her deeply to have had to exile him from the Vault for the good of the people. She had made that call on the premise of keeping the Vault functional, and it had backfired as people made even greater demands to leave. She couldn't bring herself to stop them, considering that doing so would make her no better than her father, no matter how much tougher that made it on the Vault's remaining citizens.

"Are you alright?" Butch Deloria asked.

His time outside of the Vault had matured and tempered him, given him a perspective on what the rest of the world was really like. He had grown from a punk to a somewhat capable leader, and upon his return to the Vault, was considered by Amata to be her second in command.

"I just don't know where everything went wrong, Butch. We were going to overthrow the oppressive government my father had set up, and it turns out that that government was keeping the vault, if not happy, then at least functional. To have to maintain it hurts."

"You let people leave if they want to, that's already a huge step up from your father."

"And look where that leaves the Vault. Things are starting to fall apart, and it's our fault. The only thing I can think of is to get outside assistance."

"Who do you intend to send? No one here has any experience with the world above aside from myself, and to be honest, from what I got while I was up there, many of the people of the Wasteland don't like us for kicking "The Lone Wanderer," out of his home. He is really popular with the people up there, you know. As a side not, it's been relatively peaceful. There really are no more threats out there, at least no threats from people."

"I know, you told me as such after you returned, but I'm still concerned for all of the people here. Well, no time like the present, I guess."

With that, she activated the door to the outside of the vault after telling Butch to keep an eye on things while she left and leaving instructions for Chief of Security Gomez. Butch had uploaded the most current map of the Capital Wasteland to her Pip-boy, so at least she shouldn't be too worried about getting lost. As she made her way to the Vault Door, she couldn't help but think back to that fateful day four years ago.

 _They had just overthrown her father, Alphonse Almadovar, and had taken control of the Vault. While her faction had celebrated, she realized one thing. The boy she had loved, Alec Taggart, had grown into a man out there in the wastes, and he was different from when she had last seen him. It was also around this time that she realized that part of the reason for her father's style of governance was because it was what was keeping the Vault functional. Too many people who had high tempers, a soon to be stagnant gene pool, equipment starting to break down, the list went on and on. In order to prevent the Vault from falling apart, she had to tell Taggart to leave and never come back, so others would not get the same idea._

 _The look on his face said everything she needed to know about how he felt about that. His power armor covered in the blood of those who he had killed to make her takeover a success, Gatling laser in hand, she had seen his hands tightening around the trigger and his face contort in rage, and she had panicked, for she was afraid that he was going to kill her._

 _But after a few tense moments, he calmed down, and in a leaden monotone voice, he had said, "Fine, I'll leave and never return. Steel be with you, Overseer Almadovar." And with that, he set aside his gun, put on his helmet, picked his gun back up, strode away._

 _"Wow, that was cold. The guy literally saved us all, and you just threw him out like he was week old trash."_

 _She had turned around, surprised by the voice, and saw Butch standing there, combing his hair._

 _"I don't know about you, but I'm out of here. That was what we just fought a civil war for."_

 _She stood there speechless as he left without another word. Unable to hold it in any more, she broke down and cried._

* * *

As she passed by the Vault door, she reflected on how people on the outside probably thought of her. Not well, she imagined. Like Butch said, she HAD thrown out the man who was seen to be the hero of the wastes from his home. She sighed, and thought to herself, 'I'll cross that bridge when I get there.'

When she opened the door that led to the Wasteland, she had to raise her hand in front of her eyes in order to shield them from a sun she had never before seen in her life. As soon as her eyes adjusted, she found herself confronted with a sight of devastation all around her. It was certainly intimidating for someone who had lived their entire life in confined spaces. The openness of the area in front of her scared her a bit, but it wasn't enough to make her turn back. At least she didn't have to worry so much about people attacking her. Alec had seen to that, eliminating the scum of the area and the wildlife had been for the most part driven out of inhabited areas.

Even with that, she was better armed than when Taggart had left the Vault as a result of Butch bringing back some more sophisticated weapons from the surface. She hadn't had a lot of practice with them, but she had some experience with the weapon she held, an old semi-automatic rifle that fired eight rounds of something called .30-06 ammunition. The only thing she didn't like about it was the fact that its clip made a loud *PING* noise when it ejected, but she figured that it was a trade off. She had not ventured for long when she heard someone yell, "HALT!" she froze, and then started looking around for the person who called her.

"Man, you've got poor reflexes, just emerged from the Vault, didn't you?" the person asked.

The man, as she now recognized he was, was about 40 or so, and looked to be leading a two headed cow, a Brahmin, as Butch had described them, through the wastes.

"Uh yes sir, I did."

"Haha, be thankful the Wastes are so peaceful now, you wouldn't have lasted two seconds against the scum that once roamed here."

"Well now wasn't that rude," Amata huffily stated.

"Eh, I'm just messing with ya. Ya heading anywhere in particular, or you just wandering?"

Amata decided that he seemed like a decent enough person, and she said to him,

"I'm heading for Megaton, it should be about a half hours walk that way, right?"

"Is that so? Well, I'm heading that way myself. You seem like you could use some company along the way."

He then held out his hand and said, "My name is Crazy Wolfgang, and I sell junk."

She stared at his hand for a few seconds, and then with a smile slowly creeping on her face, she placed her hand in his own and said, "Amata Almadovar, it's a pleasure to meet you Wolfgang."

"Shall we get going, ma'am?"

"Yes, let's shall."

And with that, they both started on their way through the Wastes.

* * *

Crazy Wolfgang had been pleasant enough company on the trip, and aside from a few bloatflys and the occasional mole rat, the trip had been uneventful. They reached the gates of Megaton at about four in the afternoon, and they were met by the protectron guarding the gate, a Deputy Weld. He seemed a decent enough "person" she supposed, although his comment about the "bomb being perfectly safe," was worrying. As they entered, Wolfgang asked her,

"Is there anyone in particular you're searching for?"

"Preferably someone in charge here."

"Oh, that'd be Lucas Simms. In point of fact, that's him over there."

She looked over and saw a man in an outfit not dissimilar to the outfit she had seen in Holotapes of old westerns. He looked to be in his mid forties and had traces of gray in his beard. She walked over to him in order to introduce herself after bidding farewell to Crazy Wolfgang.

"Excuse me, but are you Lucas Simms?"

"Yes, ma'am. By your dress, I'm assuming you came out of the Vault, then? And before you ask, this tends to be the first place people who leave the Vault end up in."

"Well, in my case that was deliberate. My name is Amata Almadovar, I'm the Overseer of Vault 101, and I'm here to discuss the possibility of trade between my Vault and Megaton."

"So you're the one who kicked the Lone Wanderer out of their home?"

Amata cringed a bit at that, mostly because she couldn't deny it.

"It was a terrible mistake, but yes, that was me."

"Now normally, I'm not one to judge a person just by description, but if you'll excuse my bluntness ma'am, that was a pretty bad move on your part. A lot of people around here dislike folks who come from that Vault for that reason. 'Course, that doesn't mean you did it just to be cruel. It must have been for some good."

"You're right. At the time, I thought that exiling him from the Vault would allow our continued existence. When I had overthrown my father as Overseer, I expected that everything would be better and that we could open up to the surface. But it wasn't. It turned out that the only thing keeping the Vault together was the strict rule that my father had set up. In addition, Taggart told me of all the dangers he had faced in the Wasteland, and it scared me.

"I made a poor call when I exiled Taggart from the Vault, because I thought that in so doing, I would be able to restore unity and stability to the Vault. Only it didn't. All it did was divide people even further and convince others to leave. And now our Vault is in trouble. Without technicians to repair the systems, the Vault is starting to break down. We're running out of spare parts, and like I said, even if we had them, we don't have the specialized workers to fix the affected systems. That's why I came to the surface. To look for help. Is there anyone who can help?"

Suddenly, a voice she hadn't heard in nearly four years responded.

"I can, but the question remains, do I have a good reason to do so?"

 **AN. I know the M1 Garand isn't one of the rifles available in Fallout 3, but c'mon, it's very popular in civilian ownership and as a game set in a 1950's esque world, the military still had a lot of them in storage.**

 **Also, there is a poll in my profile. Please vote.**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN. Hello, I'm sorry that this part took so long. It just wasn't coming together correctly. I've never exactly been that good with these sorts of high octane emotional scenes. A warning, there's going to be a lot of swearing in this scene, so if anyone here doesn't like that sort of thing, avert your eyes. I'm going to be earnin that teen rating today. But enough about me. Here we go.**

" _I can, but the question remains, do I have a good reason to do so?"_

Amata turned around and there, standing before her was the man who she had exiled from the Vault.

Taggart looked upon her with a face that bespoke rage, sorrow, and surprise at her presence in Megaton.

"What the hell are you doing here, Overseer? I thought the Vault was nice and comfy for you?"

"Alec..." Amata breathed, still shocked at seeing him for the first time in four years.

"That's _**Sentinel**_ Taggart to the likes of you, **_Overseer_** Almadovar."

"Please, Tagg...Sentinel Taggart, I don't want any trouble. The vault is in trouble and..."

"I'm out. See you Simms."

With that, Taggart turned and left for his house.

Amata rushed to follow, calling after him as he reached his house.

"Sentinel, don't you care for those left behind?"

Taggart whipped around, and glared at her.

"You mean the people who kicked me out of the place that had been my home for most of my life? TWICE? Yeah, not happening. In any case, common decency dictates I invite you into my house, since you won't let me back into yours."

Amata entered with Taggart following, but she wasn't enthused.

"What is wrong with you Sentinel? You were never like this?"

"Maybe because I never WANTED THIS FUCKING LIFE!"

Amata clapped her hands to her mouth. She had never known Alec to be the sort to swear, ever. To hear it now...

"Alec, what's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into ME!? Nearly 10000 Rads, three quarters of an arsenal of bullets, and enough poison to put down a dozen Behemoths at this fucking point! Maybe all I wanted WAS just to be the fucking Vault chaplain. At least then, all I would have to deal with is people who were scared for their shitty souls. I wouldn't have had to deal with the constant fear, the paranoia, the crazy assholes trying to murder me for the last four years, the heartbreak of LOSING MY FATHER AND BEING KICKED OUT OF THE ONLY HOME I'D EVER KNOWN! And what's more, everyone is always expecting me to do their work for them!"

He took on a sing songy tone at this point.

" _Oh Lone Wanderer~, please get our favorite brand of Nuka-Cola from the reaver infested remains of that super duper mart! Even though I'm an able bodied individual myself who is clearly armed and capable of doing it themselves, you should do it BECAUSE I'M TOO FUCKING LAZY!"_

Amata was in shock from the sight and sound of one of the calmest and kindest people she had ever known just flipping out.

Taggart took a deep breath, and then a strange serenity came over his face. "

"But you know what, you did me a fucking favor. I found the love of my life, and we're happy together. We even have kids. They're so smart, hopefully they won't have to deal with the clusterfuck that was my life."

Amata was now on the verge of tears at hearing what he had said.

"Alright you bastard, what do you want? An apology? FINE! I'm sorry for kicking you out of the Vault, I thought..." and Amata didn't complete that sentence because she was now staring down the barrel of a massive revolver with a scope on the top.

"I dare you to finish that sentence Amata. I fucking DARE you. Being this is a .44 Magnum, one of the most powerful handguns in the world and would blow your head clean off, you've gotta ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well do you Overseer! I'm sick and tired of the bullshit I go through with my life. At least with the Brotherhood I feel like I'm actually appreciated for what I do. Same shit, different day, but at least they have the decency to be thankful."

Amata knew she shouldn't have been so stupid, especially with a pistol pointed at her face, but that comment riled her up so bad that anger overrode common sense.

"THANKFUL! THANKFUL! Our rebellion was a mistake! All the people of the Vault were volatile powderkegs just waiting to go off! With the issues we'd been going through, it would have torn the vault apart! And even if we HAD left the vault, all that would have happened would have been inexperienced vault dwellers getting mown down by psychos! At least you had a chance by actually being decent with weaponry. I was a FUCKING FOOL for thinking that causing an armed rebellion was going to change anything!"

She could see Taggart's finger tightening around the trigger, and she closed her eyes, not even thinking of trying to do something about it. There was a sound of thunder and a ringing in her ears, but she was still alive. She couldn't hear for nearly a minute, she was shocked, she didn't think she could stand properly, but she was alive. She turned around, saw the impact of the bullet in the wall, and it was then she realized just how close she had come to death.

Taggart merely glared at her, and once she showed signs of being able to hear again, he said,

"I'll help. I'l see what I can do about getting the Brotherhood to send individuals to help and even establish trade. But it isn't for YOU. Never for YOU. Get the FUCK out of my house."

Amata shakily left, and Taggart staggered over to his bed. He laid down, and he unleashed all the anguish of four years before he finally went to sleep, still crying.

 **AN. Intense, wasn't it? As for Amata's fears, well it did happen to at least one or three Vaults out there, now didn't it? Poll in profile, please go vote.**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN. I'm so sorry this took so long. I'm having so much trouble getting what I want to write to come together and school is entering finals, so this is what I have so far. Here we go**

Taggart woke up with his eyes feeling bloodshot and his throat constricted. He wondered why that was for a few moments before memories of the previous day hit him with the force of a Behemoth punching him in the gut.

He thought he had moved on by this point, that it didn't really matter that he had been kicked out, that he would have never met his wife and had his children, but in the end, the pain of being booted out of the place that had been his home for most of his life still burned deep within him. Not to mention the pain of losing his father and the numerous other petty annoyances that had built up over the years. Not even putting a smile over it all had helped. He had just felt all of it piling on itself, all of it adding up to yesterday.

There was a knocking at his door and a voice. "Taggart! Taggart I know you're in there, what the hell do you think you're playing at?" Ah yes, the response to his little outburst. Taggart levered himself out of bed and walked over to the door. Upon opening, he was staring into the thunderous face of Lucas Simms.

"I heard a gunshot yesterday followed by the Overseer of Vault 101 fleeing your house. What the hell happened?"

"I got angry. I met someone who wronged me and a lot of other people, I got pissed and I pulled a gun on them. It was stupid of me, I didn't kill anyone except for some wood in the wall, and I really regret it now that I'm not half blinded by rage."

"I've heard the story before, and even though I sympathize with you, I can't just let something like this go."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"You're banned from entering this settlement for the next three months. Pack your stuff and I expect you out of here within a day. Be thankful I'm not jailing you, because if you were anyone else, you would be."

"Will do."

And with that, Sheriff Simms strode away.

Taggart got to work packing all of his things. He didn't actually possess a lot of stuff when it came down to it. Most of his prolific stock of weaponry and armor sets were held at the Citadel and he didn't keep much from his adventures in the Wastes. Aside from some civilian clothing and his power armor, all he really had was an old BB gun and his fathers bible. He had retrieved it while he had been in Vault 101 fighting to let that ungrateful wench of an Overseer gain power. He put all of his belongings in what the pre war military called a sea bag, got into his power armor, and hefted his bag onto his shoulder.

"Wadsworth, keep the place tidy for me while I'm away and make sure no unauthorized guests try to enter."

"Yes sir."

With that, he left. As he left, he looked around at the faces of the people around him. Some were fearful, some were pitying, some were angry.

Once he got to the helipad, he looked out at Megaton one more time. Even if everything went well with his mission, he wouldn't be seeing it again in some time. The vertibird lifted off, and six minutes later, they were at the Citadel. Immediately, he had guards around him. This was to be expected.

What was unexpected was the presence of his wife.

 **AN. Please review and follow. The poll is still up on my profile, please do vote.**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN. Again, I'm sorry for the wait. This is actually a guest chapter that scribblescribblescribble of Hiding in the Green fame wrote in correspondence with me. As such, this is in line with the story I had planned. Here we go.**

In the Citadel's courtyard, Sentinel Lyons stood in full power armor, waiting. Outwardly calm, inside she was a house divided. There was the officer of the Brotherhood of Steel, who had to reprimand, publicly and openly, a fellow officer, her equal in rank but her junior in time served. She could do that, had done as much before, though rarely, and would do so again when she had to—but it had not been Alec. There was the conflict, because she was also his spouse. That part wanted to rail at him, to demand answers, to hear and empathize and heal, because she knew him and she knew he wouldn't have acted that way unless he was pushed beyond his limits.

But right at the moment, she had to be cold steel, all soldier, because there were guards all around. Everyone in the Citadel knew of their relationship—how could they not? If she acted any differently toward him than she would any other ranking officer, there would be mutterings in the rank and file about how some people could practically get away with murder because of who they were.

"Sentinel Taggart," she began, curt and clipped.

"Sentinel Lyons," he replied, and in his voice there was a hint of resignation.

"Reports have reached the Citadel of your misconduct in Megaton. You got into a heated argument with the Overseer of Vault 101. You used provoking terms and gestures toward her. You drew your firearm upon her, which presented a clear and present threat to her life, and then fired said firearm, which constitutes assault even though the citizen was unharmed. You did so in such a manner that it represented a breach of the peace, and throughout, your conduct was unbecoming an officer and a gentleman. All of these are court martial offenses within the Brotherhood of Steel. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I—no. I do not contest any of these charges against me," Alec said. He looked as though he had not slept.

"Do you demand a court martial trial, or will you accept the field judgement under article 15 as it is handed to you?"

"I will accept it," he said, wearily.

"Ordinarily each of these six offenses carries a punishment of fourteen days restriction and extra duties. However, since at the moment the Brotherhood is engaged in several time sensitive missions and you are vital to their success, we don't have eighty four days for you to dawdle around doing KP. While you will serve out every day of that punishment, it is deferred until your part in the mission is complete. In the meantime, you are confined to your quarters when not on duty. That is all."

"Yes, ma'am." He saluted and headed into the family quarters.

Within her power armor, Sarah Lyons sagged, never more grateful for its support, because she found that she was shaking. Not enough that anyone else would notice. Except perhaps for her father—and Alec.

She followed him to their suite. The moment they were inside and the door was sealed, she turned to him.

"What the hell, Alec?!" burst from her lips.

He met her eyes with the same strength of character she had seen in him from the first hour she had known him. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that kind of behavior was even in me—until she turned up. Wanting help. Again." He offered a smile as bitter as styptic powder. "Doesn't reflect well on officers who weren't born to the Steel, does it?"

"Yes. That I get, I understand—but do you think I care about how it looks? When you know how sometimes good soldiers, people who've served for decades, suddenly just go insane and the next thing you know it's murder-suicide and their whole family is—." Their argument, such as it was, was interrupted by a whoop from further back in their rooms.

"I HEAR DADDY!" That was their daughter Joséphine, who they sometimes swore had hearing as keen as Dogmeat's and could hit pitches practically no one but a dog could hear. "DADDY'S HOME DADDY'S HOME DADDY'S HOME!"

"DADDY!" That was their son Erhard, who made up for in volume what his sister had in terms of pitch.

"Non!" called out their Ms. Nanny, Marie. She was the same bot who Elder Owyn had bought to care for Sarah after her mother's untimely death. "No running in the bathroom, Master Erhard. It is by far the most hazardous room in the house. And you are still en dishabille, which is not proper. Master Erhard!"

Shrieks of glee suggested that their son had evaded Marie and was headed for them. A sturdy toddler with hair a shade exactly in between his parents burst into the room. He was entirely naked except for a layer of bubbles, which he was shedding all over the room. He launched an attack on his father's leg and clung there. "DADDY!"

"Oh, Monsieur, Madame, I am so very sorry. I was dressing his sister and this happened." Marie floated into the room, a towel in two of her arms. "Here you are, little one." She swathed the tiny nudist in the towel as his sister, clad respectably in a playsuit, bounded in to the room behind them.

"It's all right, Marie," Alec told the robot. "I'm glad they have a little spunk in them. Wouldn't want them to turn out like a couple of scaredy-cat Vault Dwellers, would we?" Since Marie was busy toweling down Erhard, he swung Joséphine up into his arms. "How are you, sweetheart?"

"Grandpapa told us a story last night, but I wanted you," Her lower lip pouted out.

"I hope you didn't say so to him," her husband told their daughter. "It would make him very sad."

"I didn't—but I still wanted you."

"I missed you too." He set her down. "They talk better every day, don't they? And not quite twenty months yet. We've got a couple of prodigies on our hands."

"I'm afraid so," she agreed.

"Sarah—I'm not one of those people. If I were—given what I've seen, what I've done—I wouldn't have made it this far. Amata—she pushed all my buttons, all at once. All the betrayal, all that I did for her and for the vault—but I never would have hurt her."

"Alec, I know that out of all the people I've ever met, you are the least likely to ever—." She closed her eyes for a moment. "But I couldn't help but be afraid. Loving someone is perilous. Because then half your happiness is walking around in the form of another person. Even when the person is you… All I can say is, whatever happens on your mission, you have to carry it off well enough to earn yourself a full pardon, because I am not going to put up with black marks on your record. I mean it!"

"Yes, sir, Ma'am Sentinel, sir!" He snapped off a salute which made her smile. "That's better. Now, I may be confined to quarters, but isn't there some way I can start working off those extra duties?" That smile reminded her of how they came to be the parents of twins in the first place.

"Perhaps." She paused. "You could start by-telling the twins a story."

 **AN. Has anyone else noted that the naming conventions in the Capital Wasteland seem to favor very rarely used names? Anyways, the poll is still up in the profile, please vote.**


	13. Chapter 13

**AN. Yup, I'm back. This chapter is my own story.**

 **Cześć to the readers from Poland. My finals are over so hopefully I should be able to put out more chapters soon. Without further ado, here we go.**

"Many years ago, in a far away land called Japan, there was a poor old farmer. His wife had died and his children had all moved out to start their own families. He lived in accordance to an ancient religion known as Buddhism, which required him to take no animal life, to live frugally, and to pray. While it could not be said that his was a comfortable life, it was a relatively content one, per the standards of the time.

One day upon returning from his work, he came across an animal that was called a fox in a trap. Unwilling to see the poor thing hurt, he released it from the trap and bandaged the wound that had come with the trap. However, he also did not wish to let the man who had trapped this animal go without anything, so he gathered what little money he had and set it by the trap. The fox, seemingly grateful to the man, followed beside him for a ways before vanishing into the forest."

"What's a forest?" asked Erhard.

"A forest is a large grouping of things called trees. Trees were mighty plants that stood many feet into the air. You won't find any here, at least not yet, but there are woods to the North. But I'm getting away from the story."

"A few days after that, he was busy, working in the fields to keep his crops growing. Suddenly, a woman unlike any he had seen before came up to him. This woman was beautiful beyond any earthly definition, and exuded regal poise."

"Now what you have to understand is that back then, the society of Japan was divided into castes, and people were to give deference to their supposed superiors. As such, upon seeing this woman, the poor man abased himself in front of this woman, who he assumed to be royalty, such was her air."

"The woman smiled warmly, and said to him, 'you need not abase thyself, poor tenant, for I am not royalty. I am in fact the fox you rescued some time ago. I am grateful to you for what you have done, and feel that you deserve a reward.'"

"With that, she conjured, as if from nowhere, a small chest. Within the chest was more money than the farmer had ever seen in his life. He once more abased himself in front of her and thanked her for her kindness. With a flash, she was gone, leaving solely the small chest. Unlike many when presented with such a windfall, this man continued to live frugally and only used the money sparingly until the end of his days."

Taggart smiled as he noticed his children had fallen asleep, and tucked them both into bed. Whatever the future held, he swore that he would make it home to see his children grow up to honorable adulthood.

He looked at Sarah and said, "I believe that is their story?"

She smiled slightly and said, "Yes, I do believe so."

He went silent for a moment, and then said, "Of course, that wasn't really the story. The real story had the old man con a brothel out of its money with the fox woman. But of course, that isn't exactly the life lesson I'd want to impart to our children, don't you think? I think I liked the version I gave, for the reason it teaches one to be good to all."

"Of course," he said sadly, "They'll also need to learn that not everyone should be trusted eventually. Like it or not, no matter how hard we try, we likely won't get rid of all the seedier elements of life. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try."

"I agree." Sarah said. "No matter what else happens, I refuse to leave a worse world for our children."

"May our missions be successful."

"And may steel be with us all."

"And on that note, I'm exhausted. Shall we go to bed?"

"Yes, let's shall."

With that, they exited the twins room and moved into their room. After changing into their night attire, both got into bed and gazed into each others eyes. Alec took Sarah's hand and held it in his own before saying,

"Good night, Sarah."

"Good night, Alec."

And with that, they went to sleep.

 **AN. The story Alec told his children is called The Fox in the Brothel. It's an excellent story in it's own right, but it is most certainly not one Alec would tell a toddler. Hence why it is sanitized here. The beginning is mostly the same plot as the original story, although everything past the revelation of the woman being the fox is left out. That said, if the opportunity comes up, I will use the tale in its original form. The poll is still up, please vote. Voting will be considered closed once I have gotten 30 people's votes.**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN. שלום or** **העלא to the readers from Israel. We finally get to the real meat of this story. The expeditions. Are you as excited as I am to finally be on our way? Let's hope the main characters are equally as excited**

Today was the day.

All the preparation, all the planning, all the training had lead up to this day. The East Coast Brotherhood would once more be operating as a united force, and once more be sending expeditions to gain new technology. It was a day both of celebration and apprehension, for no one knew just what they would find as the expeditions went into the Wastes to their destinations.

All around, the selected Brotherhood members were being congratulated by their fellows, envious that they themselves were not selected for the mission.

Alec walked up to a few of the ones going on the expedition with him and they stood at attention.

"I am not good at making speeches. That's normally either Elder Lyons or Sentinel Lyons job. However, I'd like to give it a try."

"I am proud of each and every one of you. We have trained, and prepared, and now we will be setting out. All of you veterans, stay sharp and teach the Initiates. Initiates, I am happy with how far you've come, but remember, don't let that make you cocky. Listen to your seniors, they've been in this situation before. All that said, may steel be with us. AD VICTORIAM!"

"AD VICTORIAM!" they all yelled.

With that, they loaded aboard the vertibirds and got ready to lift off. Before they themselves did, Alec and Sarah stepped off to the side. Both of them were in their power armor, and both had their helmets on, but they took each others hands, and touched their helmets to each other.

"May steel be with you," Alec said.

"And may it be with you," Sarah replied.

"See you soon?"

"Yes, we shall."

"Goodbye," Alec whispered.

"Goodbye," Sarah finished.

And with that, they parted ways. Both entered their respective Vertibirds, and got ready to leave.

"All right Lancer, take us up!" yelled Taggart.

"Citadel tower, this is Vertibird November Forty Nine, ready for takeoff."

"Vertibird November Forty Nine, cleared for takeoff on current heading, may steel be with you."

And with that, the engines roared, and the Vertibird lifted off, followed shortly after by the other vertibirds of Taggart's expedition.

Sarah's followed shortly after, and soon, the Citadel had more or less returned to the normal day to day duties of the East Coast Brotherhood.

* * *

A few members of the Brotherhood however, were not happy about some of the duties that Elder Lyons had imposed on them. While it was all well and good that he had reestablished contact with the primary contingent of the Brotherhood back west, it did not make up for the fact that he had essentially thrown out the Codex in the process.

"It's a travesty, what he's done with the Brotherhood," exclaimed former Specialist, returned to Scribe Bowser. "He expects us to help the vermin of this land."

"I know, I know," replied Protector, returned to Paladin Casdin soothingly. "I hate what he's done with the Brotherhood myself, but you must remember, our opinion is now very much the minority. If we declared our opinions now, all we'd do is get kicked out again. Like it or not, these traitors have access to technology that we could have only dreamed of obtaining, we must bide our time until the opportunity presents itself that we'll be able to steer the Chapter back to the Codex."

'And I will do what I can to bring that day upon the Brotherhood as soon as possible,' he thought.

 **AN. And they're on their way. How am I doing, leave your opinions in the comments. The poll is still up BTW, if you want to see the Brotherhood go to a different country, vote for it. The current leader is England, followed by the USSR and Japan. The other choices are China, Korea , Ireland, Germany, Cuba, Mexico, Argentina, Israel, and Canada. If your choice isn't among these, let me know which country you want, why, and the history of that country during the 1950's.**


	15. Chapter 15

**AN. مرحبا to the readers from the Libyan Arab Jamahiriya. I'm sorry for not updating till now but my beta reader had finals and couldn't get to the story until recently.** **For now, we'll follow Taggart on his expedition.**

For all that they had been preparing themselves for what they might encounter on their expedition, the flight in the end wasn't that long. Within ten minutes of getting to altitude and forming up with the other Vertibirds, they had already come in sight of the airport. There were definitely signs of habitation, so Taggart decided that the prudent course of action would be to swing to the South and move up from there.

The trouble began shortly after they arrived close to the old museum.

As they approached, they suddenly came under fire from concealed positions, anti-aircraft guns delivering lethally accurate fire on the vertibirds.

Taggart's was among the last to go down, attempting to put machine gun fire into the anti-aircraft pits in order to allow the remaining vertibirds to escape. A hit on the engine caused the aircraft to begin autorotating out of control. As the vertibird hit the ground, Taggart's only thoughts were of Sarah, and how he had failed in his promise to her.

* * *

Some time later, Taggart began to wake up. He had always been relatively quick to recover, the events of the reactor at Project Purity notwithstanding. As he opened his eyes, he noticed a few things. First, he was in some sort of clinic, secondly, he was out of his armor, and thirdly, he noticed that he was shackled to the table. A person cleared their throat to his left, with a distinctly feminine tone to it. He looked and saw the person. It was indeed a woman, around 5'11". She was distinctly buffer than the average person of the Wasteland and looked like she had seen some things. And then she spoke.

"I was wondering when you were going to wake up. From your armor, you seemed to be someone significant? The women and the _men_ seemed quite anxious about you."

Taggart noted the emphasis on the men, and had to ask, "My troops, are they ok?"

"'Your' troops, those that are left, at least, are being treated for their injuries, after which we will decide what to do with you all. The supermutant and ghoul survived as well, but we'll get rid of them soon enough. They went along with the rest of the troops."

"Thank you for that much, at least."

"Don't thank us just yet. You were making hostile moves towards us, that merits death."

"I'm assuming that if I said, 'We had come in peace and the weapons were to defend ourselves,' would sound quite hollow right now."

"No."

"Figures."

"In any case, this decision is above my head, but were it up to me, I'd have shot you and your _men_ out of hand, but the matriarch wants to meet you. For what I don't know."

Deciding discretion was the better part of valor at the moment, and with his troops lives on the line, Taggart chose to go along with it.

"I assume I'm not going to remain shackled to this table?"

"And what makes you think we trust you not to try anything?"

"I don't suppose you'd take my word for it?"

"Not on your miserable, misbegotten life."

"Uh huh."

"Practitioner Mavis, attention!" came a call from a door that Taggart had not previously noticed.

There in the doorway stood a woman, around her early 60's, but one who still stood tall and proud. And how tall she was, at what Taggart figured to be 6'2".

"Unshackle him," she commanded.

"Matriarch, I beg you to reconsider. We have no idea of this savage's intentions."

"Even if he is a _man_ , I will not talk to someone who has been shackled to a table."

Grumbling, the woman who Taggart now assumed to be Mavis began to undo his restraints. Taggart rubbed the spot where the shackles had dug into his skin, and looked at the woman whom Mavis had called the Matriarch.

"Are you the leader here?"

"I am she."

"I am Sentinel Alec Taggart of the Brotherhood of Steel."

"I have heard tales of your kind, those who hoard technology."

"We merely wish to preserve it and the knowledge of it's use, ma'am, as well as keep anyone from blowing themselves and anyone around them up with a nuclear weapon. In addition, our chapter now uses that technology to benefit the average citizen of the Capital Wasteland. Our purpose here was along those lines, to see what technology was at this airport and to see if it could be used to benefit the people of the Wasteland."

"And yet you came armed."

"What sane person doesn't carry any arms in the Wasteland? Besides that, our other objective was to establish contact with any preexisting populations and to negotiate trade with them."

"I will give you that at least. Still, caution is prudent. Your injuries, minor though they proved to be, have been tended to. You should be honored, you are the first outsiders within our walls since our arrival. You will now be escorted to the cells with the rest of the troops until I see fit to decide what to do with you. Guards!"

At that point, the guards entered the room, and Taggart once more noticed that the guards were female.

"I wonder..." he pondered, as he was dragged away by his arms. They made it to what looked like a brig with the rest of his troops in it.

He was pushed into one cell with all of the surviving Senior Initiates and Journeyman Knights. Among their number were a few of the ones that Gunny had pointed out to him. He noticed that all the women had been separated and put in a cell opposite his own, and under heavier guard, with Fawkes and Charon in the cell besides that, again with an even heavier guard.

"Sir, what's going on?" one of them asked, Cutler, he believed was his name.

"I don't know for sure, but I think we've been captured."

"What are they going to do to us?" Cutler asked, voice wavering.

"I don't know, they said that the usual response to this situation is execution, but we're the first people from outside inside, so they're debating what exactly to do."

"On another note, have any of you noticed anything about the people here?"

"They appear well fed sir," came the reply from one of the surviving Knights in the cell.

"They're tall," came a response from one of the other Senior Initiates.

"They've all been women," came the reply from Senior Initiate Danse.

"Precisely," said Taggart, "Have any of you seen any men?"

"No sir," came the echo.

"There's another thing to that, sir," said a female Senior Initiate, Haylen, he seemed to recall from the cell opposite.

"Explain," Taggart said.

"They seem to treat us female members with some degree of respect, higher number of guards notwithstanding, but they glare daggers at all of the men. Has anyone else noticed that?"

"Shut up in there!" came one of the guards, who bashed the butt of their rifle against the bars of the cell containing the women.

"It's been one hell of a ride so far, Taggart," said Charon, who had remained quiet throughout the entire conversation.

"How have they been treating you?" asked Taggart.

"About as well as you'd expect, I'm more surprised they didn't just shoot us out of hand."

"Maybe they're more civilized than they appear," speculated one of the Senior Initiates.

"I think it's more that we're the first outsiders in a long time and they don't know what to do with us," said Taggart.

"In any case, about the only thing I think we can do for the moment is to sit tight and see what happens next."

* * *

The Citadel had been sent into an uproar. Four vertibirds had requested an emergency landing at Megaton, and brought back the bad news that the majority of the expedition sent West had been lost at Dulles. Among them was the vertibird carrying Sentinel Taggart, whose vertibird had gone down covering the escape of the survivors. For most of the Citadel, the reaction was shock and sadness.

Elder Lyons was among the hardest hit. He asked to be excused from the Bailey when he heard the news, claiming a severe headache. Many noted that his movements were greatly slowed.

To the former Outcasts, this news was like music to their ears.

"Shall we make our move?" asked Scribe Bowser.

"As good as this news is for us, no, not yet. This is just one failure, that, while certainly severe in it's own way, is recoverable. We will need more than just this. Once the failures have gone on for long enough, we'll sweep in and save the situation and from there, we'll be able to steer the Brotherhood back on the ways of the Codex." replied Paladin Casdin.

A **nd there's the end of the chapter. As always, please leave your thoughts in the review section. The poll is still up, so please do vote.**

 **update: I'm in a bit of a writers block. I know exactly what's going to happen next but I don't know exactly how to word it. In addition to that, I'm not quite sure how to write the inhabitants of Dulles without invoking some double standards too hard. If you have an idea, please share in the comments**


	16. Chapter 16

**AN. I am so horribly sorry that this chapter hasn't already come out. For the longest time I was going through a writer's block and then moving across the country from the Fairfax Ruins to the Boneyard through the territory of the Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel, Legion territory through Zion Canyon, and New Vegas for my new job which is near Mariposa Blvd. We were stopped briefly in Legion Territory by the forces of the Caesar but fortunately we were able to convince them to leave us alone. (read, moved from the Washington DC area through the Midwest via St Louis, was stopped by Colorado State Policeman thinking I was a college student entering to gain illicit substances instead of moving and was let off with a warning to never pass through there again, passed through Utah and stayed in Las Vegas before finally getting to Los Angeles) Fortunately, my job leaves me with plenty of time to work on this story, so hopefully I'll be able to get back into the flow of things. I'm sorry I haven't said this earlier, and it should go without saying, I do not own Fallout or any of the other associated resources to it aside from the ideas expressed within this story original to me.**

Towards the North of the Capitol Wasteland, Scribe Ingram was repairing a set of Power Armor that had malfunctioned. She had not been chosen for the big mission, but that was okay, there was so much that needed to be done here. Her section was monitoring the trade caravans, making sure that none of them were raiders trying to attack. Not that many of them had the brains to do it, but lately the raiders were getting smarter. Some of the younger members of the Brotherhood joked that the pill popping idiots must have mixed in some mentats with their drugs. Even so, this posting was proving to be quite annoying.

Of course, the raiders weren't the ones making trouble, none of them had been seen for a while. No, what was causing the problem was the company that they had been forced to accept at their post.

"I'm just saying, what the hell are we doing here? All this energy, all these resources, they could be used to create new developments for the Brotherhood," came the voice of a Knight Bowlsley.

Of course, that wasn't what he had been initially. Originally, he had been Defender Bowlsley of the Brotherhood Outcasts. In spite of Elder Lyon's call for reconciliation with their wayward Brothers, most of the Brotherhood wasn't feeling very open to it.

Most of the new members of the Brotherhood were new recruits who had not been among the original expedition sent East. Their reactions were varied, usually somewhere between mild indifference and annoyance at the people who had left the Brotherhood that had saved the Wasteland from the clutches of the Enclave and had in general restored order to this desolate part of the Wasteland, now coming to rejoin it after they had done much of the hard work in bringing civilization of a form back to the Wasteland.

Among those who had served with their erstwhile "Brothers," the reaction was much more negative, with the general sentiment being a mixture of anger and betrayal at seeing those who had betrayed the Brotherhood at it's bleakest point now being welcomed back into the fold with open arms.

While Ingram had been a recruit from the Wasteland, she had been with the Brotherhood for most of their stay in the Capitol Wasteland, and could well understand the anger of the original expedition members. However, anger wasn't a productive emotion in the main, and it certainly wasn't going to fix these servos she was working on.

"And why are we spreading the water? Shouldn't we be stockpiling that? What about the technology? Our mission is after all to safeguard technology against those unworthy of it."

That was enough for one of the newer Knights, a woman by the name of Kimba. Standing up from her position, she walked over to Bowlsley, who was facing away from her, tapped him on the shoulder, and when Bowlsley turned to face her, punched him in the face.

The leading Paladin materialized, as senior officers are wont to do when something is going wrong and screamed, "Knight Kimba, what the Hell was that for!?"

"For the Steeldamned filth this deserter is trying to fill our heads with! The Lone Wanderer brought safety to our homes and the Brotherhood restored order to the Wasteland! And what was he doing?! Hiding away from the world and hoarding technology that could have been used to help those around him?"

With that, an argument broke out among most present, some advocating the Outcast's point of view, and most taking the stance of the Brotherhood.

* * *

Below, a group of Raiders were sneaking up on the outpost. Quieter than normal, they were able to close to within a hundred and fifty yards of the cliff upon which the Brotherhood's forces were positioned.

* * *

The first shots came as a humongous surprise. No raiders had been seen for a long time, and the Brotherhood had admittedly begun to become a little lax in its defense. That they should turn up now...

"All troops, focus fire on the Raiders!" yelled the Paladin.

No acknowledgement was necessary. Though the group was in the main new, they were much better trained than their predecessors had been, and it showed in how they took down the Raiders. Most were too stoned out of their minds to even think about taking cover, but those that did survived for longer and even managed to wound one or two of the Brotherhood. Then came the moment Ingram would remember for the rest of her natural days. She saw a raider bringing up a Fatman and taking aim at them. Gripping her pistol, she took aim and fired, hitting the Raider dead in the chest. He would die in five seconds, but those five seconds were enough. He pulled the trigger, and the Fat Man was launched. The last thing Ingram remembered was the explosion, the fall, and the impact. And all went black.

 **AN. Shit's hitting the fan now, isn't it? It's good to be back. While all of you are at it, I put up two more stories, and I'd like your opinions on them. Well, one's a story, the other is an idea. That idea might become a story and I might post more of the story, but only after feedback from you, the readers. So please, read and review my other stories as well.**


	17. Chapter 17

**AN. Hello again. This is going to be a very important chapter for a number of reasons. Sit down, buckle up, and put your heads between your knees, because this is going to be one hell of a ride.**

As all of these events were taking place, Elder Lyons was in the nursery for his grandkids, looking over them, pondering how he was supposed to break the news of what had happened to their father to them. For all the precocity they had demonstrated, such as being able to talk and understand concepts up to a five year olds level, they were still infants. How would they take the news that their beloved Papa might not be coming home this time? How would he explain it to Sarah, that her husband had died gallantly fighting to give his remaining troops a chance to escape? It was a good story, and it was indeed the bare truth, but somehow it still felt wrong, too sanitized.

Pondering this, he heard the shifting of boots into the room until they were right behind him.

 _"By The Creator, what new catastrophe is upon us? What new crisis do I have to deal with now?"_ was the only thought in Elder Lyon's head.

"Sir, I have urgent news..." the Paladin began, but then stopped when he saw what his Elder was looking at.

"I am sorry, monsiuer, but Elder Lyons has asked for peace and quiet," came the voice of the Miss Nanny, Marie as she floated over to the Paladin, "I respectfully request that you leave and try again in a little while."

"No, Marie, if this is urgent, I must deal with it now," Elder Lyons said. With more effort than was usual for him, he levered himself up and turned to face the Paladin. The Paladin flinched somewhat at the sight before him.

In spite of all of the things that had happened, Elder Lyons had stood ramrod straight and proud, his hair still retained a small amount of the brilliant blond it had been in his youth, his face, though containing some lines of age was mostly the same as it had been twenty years ago, furrow marks and all, and even with his advancing age, still seemed to possess a youthful step to his gait. He was a man who it seemed had managed to get a better deal at aging than most others. A man with the appearance of being in his late 50's-early 60's instead of being closer to 80.

The Elder Lyons that stood before him now looked almost to be the complete opposite. You could see every little crease of age in his face, every liver spot stood magnified, every joint seemed to creak, his hair had gone completely white, and it seemed like it took him great efforts to walk. In short, he had the appearance of being a feeble old man.

"Well, Paladin, if this is urgent news, let us walk away from here so as not to disturb the children's rest," Lyons said.

"Er, yes sir, if you would please follow me," the Paladin replied.

Both strode out of the room, leaving Marie alone with the children.

"Oh, I do hope he'll be alright," said Marie to herself.

* * *

As they strode, the Paladin was explaining the situation that had developed. It seemed that the Outcasts had been making discreet overtures to others in the Brotherhood, trying to see if any of them would back a coup against him. He should have known something like this was going to happen with the return of the Outcasts into the ranks. Well, he was going to put an end to it.

Finding strength within that conviction, he seemed to regain the air he once held. At once he seemed to return to himself. Once they arrived at Casdin's quarters, Lyons steeled himself, and entered the room, with the Paladin acting as back up in case Casdin tried something.

"CASDIN!" he yelled.

"Yes, Elder, what can I do for you?" Casdin replied.

"Cut the crap, Casdin," Elder Lyons snarled.

Casdin was taken aback by the profanity from the normally unfailingly polite Elder.

"Why sir, whatever brought this on?"

"You know what. I've received word about your groups actions. Of how you plan to lead a coup against me."

"Why sir, I simply wish to serve the Brotherhood faithfully again."

"Casdin, don't you dare lie to me any further than you already have. I should have known you would do something like this."

At this point, Casdin stood up, looked him dead in the eye, and then exploded.

"You treasonous dog! You betrayed everything our codex stood for!"

"I did what was best for the Brotherhood! We couldn't survive and locate new technology if we didn't recruit from the outside! There wouldn't **BE** a chapter left if we hadn't!"

"The Brotherhood is for Brotherhood only!"

"If I hadn't opened the Brotherhood, we would have been annihilated like the other Chapters!"

"Then they must not have held to the codex strictly enough, they were punished for their infidelity!"

"They held blindly to the codex, and they were decimated for it! Most of our fellow chapters have become Llittle better than raiders stealing food and technology from others because 'it is our creator-given right.' Well tell me, do not the lives of those outside the Brotherhood matter?"

"When they hold technology valuable to the Brotherhood, no they don't!"

"THE BROTHERHOOD CAN NO LONGER STAND ISOLATED FROM THE REST OF THE WORLD, IT MUST TREAT WITH THE OUTSIDE!"

"THE BROTHERHOOD SHALL REMAIN AS IT ALWAYS HAS, UNAFFECTED BY THE OUTSIDE!"

"Um, sir?" came a voice.

"WHAT!?," roared Lyons.

That voice belonged to a nervous young scribe who had been sent to break the news of the Northern Outpost to Lyons.

"There's been a raider attack on the Northern Outpost. We lost most of our troops there. We have sent a relief force and medics."

It was at that moment that something broke for Elder Lyons. A headache that had been building since the news of the loss of Sentinel Taggart and the treachery of Casdin reached a crescendo. Then everything went blurry for him. He began to slip and fell to the ground. The last thing Elder Lyons heard was, "So ends the era of Owyn Lyons."

 **AN. Yup. That just happened. Please read and review.**


	18. Chapter 18

**AN. Here we go again folks. I'm sorry for not posting for a while. Things came up and I've been busy working. Further, I feel that as an author, it is my duty to provide you folks with the best quality product that I can, and that anything less is a disservice to you folks. Anyways, I know you don't want to read my excuses, so let us move onto the story.**

Far from all of these events. Alec was resting in his cell, awaiting exactly what his captors had in mind for his group. What was taking so long to make a decision? And why were they all women? He had been paying attention to each changing of the guards, and not once was the new guard a man. If this was a sustainable population, where were the men? He was soon to find out.

Another guard came up to the women's cell, and said, "Which one of you is the leader?"

"None of us, we keep telling you that."

"But if it's not a woman, then who would it be? One of those mutants? Please."

Alec stood up, walked to the front of the cell, and said,

"I am, ma'am. Sentinel Alec Taggart."

The guard laughed, long and loud, before she finally said,

"And what farce is this? Everyone knows that men can't do physical activity for shit and are only good for helping the Elderly raise the children! Tell me another one!"

'Well, that was certainly odd," thought Alec.

"Come on levy, tell me who among the women is your leader."

"Like I said, I'm the leader."

It was at that moment that Alec got hit. When he came to a few seconds later, he figured it was the butt of this guard's rifle.

"I've had it up to here with your lies! Only women are fit to lead, so I'll ask you again, which among you is the leader!?"

"Gaoler Artesia, that is quite enough!" bellowed a familiar voice.

Taggart, holding his nose in an attempt to staunch the bleeding, turned his head and saw the woman he knew as the Matriarch. She looked at him and he at her.

"I wish to speak with that one."

"Matriarch, are you seriously considering that this MAN is the leader!?"

"None of the women seem to be the leader."

"Yes, ma'am," Artesia said reluctantly.

The cell opened, and Alec could feel himself being hauled up by the Gaoler.

"On your feet, you miserable piece of shit!"

"I'm up, I'm up."

He stood before the one known as the matriarch, and said to her,

"What can I do for you?"

"Follow me."

And with that, the Matriarch turned around and left the room.

"Move, maggot!" Artesia hit him in the back with the butt of her rifle.

Alec moved, both out of a desire not to get hit and also out of a genuine curiosity where this was going. He looked at the cells again, and he hadn't noticed it before, but they looked like they had been little stores prior to the war.

Soon, he reached a more ornate room than the ones he had been in. Unknown to him, it had once been a club. The seats in here looked like they hadn't been sitting around for over 200 years and in fact looked nearly new. Artesia took up a position near the Matriarch, ready to act if Alec tried any funny business.

As for the Matriarch, she was sitting at a slightly more ornate chair than the others.

"Sit," she said.

Taking it as an order, Alec sat in one of the chairs where he could still get a look at the exit.

"You do not trust us?"

"Forgive me, O Matriarch, but one does not survive in the Wasteland long without learning to watch your back in unfamiliar places."

"Well put. I suppose you're wondering why I wish to speak with you?"

"The thought has crossed my mind, yes," Alec opined.

"As hard as it is for most of our population to believe, you do seem to be the leader of the group that has entered our lands. You present a quandary, for your group are the first outsiders to have entered our lands in a long time."

"I apologize for creating such a quandary," Taggart stated.

"Indeed. But now we must decide what to do with you. Many within your group keep saying that you came in peace, including yourself, but you came heavily armed. I've only seen a rotorcraft in the Museum of Aviation, and not capable of flying. How did you accomplish this?"

"I am not at liberty to reveal the full details to an outsider, however I am willing to say that they were a lucky find," Alec replied stonily.

"And I would not expect you to reveal the details. I assume you are wondering a little bit about us, who we are, what we're doing here?"

"Perhaps," Alec replied, a little surprised at how well this woman was able to read him.

"As to who we are, we are the Wrights. Why the name, you might ask? We named our tribe after the first to fly, and it has been the desire of all that live within our lands to do so. To slip the surly bonds of Earth and dance the sky with laughter silvered wings. Often enough, we've achieved that through VR simulation, but it isn't the real thing. We've been here for several generations, and we will not be moved from our lands. However, I would like to discuss a deal with you."

"A deal, Matriarch?"

"Yes, a deal. If you would come with me over to the window, I wish to show you something."

The phrase had been worded as a suggestion, but Alec knew it to be a command, and walked over to the window next to the Matriarch.

He saw a vast amount of space, nearly the same size as the entire of the downtown of the old Washington DC. Most of it was being farmed, although there were also portions dedicated to training, similar to the old holotapes of US Army training.

"As you can see, we are primarily an agricultural people, with most of what land we possess being devoted to growing our foodstock. After all, as I'm sure you're aware, it takes one acre of farmland to feed one person for a year, or at least that's what one of the old pamphlets we found said. Personally, we've found we can still function at 3/4's of an acre."

"I am aware of that statistic, although unfortunately, most of the land in the Capitol Wasteland is unsuitable for farming, too much concrete in the way."

"Right. Anyways, the deal. Despite the fact that no one has entered our lands for a long time, we have listened on the conversations of others. Through that, we learned of the Brotherhood, as well as the fact that you have a huge amount of clean water. As you can imagine, water is incredibly important to us for the crops and livestock. Unfortunately, what sources we do have are small and can barely provide enough water for us to survive. In addition, from time to time this water becomes irradiated, necessitating much time and effort on our part. Therefore, what I propose is this: You and your survivors will be permitted to leave and return to your Citadel. Since I assume you came for whatever technology was here, I propose that you provide water in exchange for that technology, and that any technicians sent to study here be women."

"I must inform my superiors of this before I make any sort of deal," Alec insisted.

"Only once you leave the premises. We've cleared the land around us, so you have no worry of any wild animals."

"How very gracious of you. I just hope things are going alright back at home."

"Splendid. In the meantime, why don't you follow Artesia here on a tour? I'd like to have some time alone to think."

"Move!"

 **AN. Well, what did you all think?**


	19. Chapter 19

**AN. Yup, I'm still here. I am so sorry that this took so long to write. I just lost motivation over the summer, but now I'm back. I left my job in the Boneyard to go home and passed through Legion Territory again, which was uneventful and actually rather quiet. When we reached the Texas Brotherhood of Steel's territory however, we were held up by the BOS and lost some of our tech, although fortunately they didn't get anything truly valuable. Fortunately, the rest of the trip was uneventful aside from a stop at the house of the King (It's apparently a very dangerous area, but we didn't hit any trouble while we were there). (Translation: traveled through the Southwest, got car broken into in Amarillo, Texas and they made off with some of my stuff, and visited Graceland)**

As events unfolded West of them, Sarah and her group flew over the ruins of Maryland in order to get to Aberdeen. Passing near the old city of Baltimore, Sarah was once more surprised by just how much of the city had survived the war. But then, these buildings had been built to last. In any case, Baltimore wasn't her objective.

It was at that moment that the radio crackled to life, and frantic voices were heard.

"Things aren't going well back West," thought Sarah.

For a moment, panic beset her, worrying for her husband, but she squashed that thought with all the force of a Deathclaw's strike.

She had her own mission to worry about, with its own risks and it's own challenges.

She was not going to compromise the safety of herself or her fellow Brothers and Sisters by worrying.

"Approaching the LZ now," said the Lancer.

The Landing Zone or LZ was a patch of flatland about a mile to the West of the facility. This had been chosen as a compromise between safety from whatever defenses might still be active at Aberdeen and being able to move quickly.

It was rather odd, actually. There should have been wildlife around here, for a start. Yet there was absolutely nothing.

It was absolutely quiet aside from the sounds of the Vertibird thundering off into the distance and the sound of a few squads in Power Armor as they moved.

"Is it just me or is it..." one of the newer recruits began saying.

"Newbie, if you dare to finish that sentence, I'm going to drop a Fatman on you," said one of the Paladins.

That shut up the new guy real quickly.

The squad was moving at a respectable pace, and the terrain was mostly flat with a general slope down. Within around 10 minutes, they'd made it to the outskirts of the facility. They looked at the sentry posts, and noted that there seemed to be nothing there, at least nothing manning the guns.

"Looks clear, ma'am, shall we proceed?" asked Star Paladin Cross.

"Squad one, stay here and act as overwatch, squads two and three, you're with me, we investigate, squad four patrol and make sure there's nothing dangerous around, squad five is reserves in case anything goes wrong. All right people let's move!"

"You heard the Sentinel, let's move!" yelled Cross.

As Sarah approached the old facility, she still heard nothing, no life, no nothing. She was starting to get a little creeped out by the fact there was nothing all around.

The facility itself was huge. The whole thing was about half the size of inner DC, and the facilities that she was looking for were by the water.

"This place must have been impressive back in the day," spoke one of the Initiates, looking around at some of the vehicles.

"Keep it quiet, we're nearly at the objective," said Sarah.

The building that stood before them was large, both in height and in general width.

They came up to the nearest door, and began getting ready to enter the building.

"All right on the count of three, kick down the door," Sarah instructed a Knight.

"One, two, thr... Holy SHIT!" she yelled as she brought her weapon up to face the door.

The exclamation was because the door had suddenly flung open, and a figure in Power Armor stood before them, yelling "HELLO, and welcome to the Aberdeen Proving Grounds, where we give you more bang for your buck! So, can I give you fine soldiers a tour of the facilities?"

The Brotherhood members present looked at each other in confusion, and then looked at the figure before them.

"Uhh, and who are you?" asked one of the younger Knights.

"I'm so sorry, where are my manners? My name is Alphonse Elric, but you can call me Al, everyone does. I see you are all Enclave soldiers, how would you like a tour of the facilities?" the figure in Power Armor now known as Al said.

Now the team was on alert, at just how cheery this guy was in the face of all of the soldiers in Power Armor pointing weapons his way were. After all, he had just declared himself to be affiliated with the Enclave in front of Brotherhood of Steel soldiers. On the other hand, he didn't recognize them as Brotherhood, so maybe they could get something out of this.

"Oh-kay, uh, Mister Elric was it? We would love a tour of the facilities."

"Magnificent, if you would follow me please?"

And with that, Al turned around and went inside.

With a shrug, Sarah ordered three of her troops to stand guard at the door while the rest of them followed this strange person into the facility.

* * *

"And over here you can see the offices that the managers of this facility would be," said Al, as he continued to give a tour, with a now thoroughly bored Brotherhood behind him. At first they were wary of him as he led them through the place, but now he just seemed like a tour guide some of them had seen in old pre-war holotapes.

"And the actual weapons research and development?"

"Ah yes, if you would kindly follow me, we were just about to go there."

The group proceeded toward a door marked, "Secret, authorized personnel only, remember, loose lips aid Commies."

"What you are about to see is one of the greatest secrets of our preparations. After all, we're all Enclave here, aren't we?"

"Why yes we are, lead on Mister Elric."

"Why, like I said earlier, call me Al. Everyone does. Anyways, behold."

With that, Al opened the door, and the Brotherhood soldiers all gasped.

There, in front of them, were other people in Power Armor. Unlike Al though, the heads weren't the typical helmet. Instead, there were the tops of a robobrain.

Many were working, some were discussing things between each other, some were fabricating things, others were testing things on local wildlife.

"What is this!?" cried one of the younger Initiates.

"Why, the finest minds of our time being harnessed to a higher cause. You see, many of them didn't want to work for the government, so the US Government did what it had to in order to bring them in line. See how busily they work?"

It took everything everyone had not to shoot Al at that moment. To see the callousness, the casual cruelty of the pre war government played out in front of them was almost too much to bear. Regardless, they needed the Power Armor and weaponry, and if they could take this facility intact, they could massively benefit from it.

"I heard that they make Power Armor here. May we see where they're made?" asked Sarah, in a clipped tone.

Fortunately, Al didn't seem to notice it, and he replied, "Of course, just follow me," in his ever chipper tone.

By now, everyone was thoroughly angry with Al. His chipper tone, his seeming uncaring for the people whose lives were ruined by the Enclave.

They were led to a room further inside the facility, and everyone tensed up. None of this area looked like a manufacturing facility.

"Al, what is th..." Sarah began.

"Stow it," Al said, in a tone far removed from his prior happy tone.

Everyone was stunned at the sudden change in tone from this previously happy individual. Sarah brought her weapon up, but once she had it leveled at him, Al simply stated,

"I'd lower that weapon if I were you, Sentinel."

'He knows, this is not good," thought Sarah.

"So you knew we were Brotherhood?"

"Since you entered. I truly wish you hadn't done that. I don't like to hurt people, but God help me, if you give me a reason to, well..."

and then came the whirring of miniguns, as turrets revealed themselves all around the Brotherhood detachment.

"And if you call for help, the others outside will be eliminated. Before you judge me, I should reveal something. Don't try anything, or the turrets will destroy you."

With that, Al reached up to his helmet and undid the seal. Taking it off, he revealed just what was under there.

There was no head there. Instead, a much streamlined robo brain stood atop there, at least one that could reasonably fit with the helmet on.

"And now you see before you the results of the Enclave, the results of war. Scientists, mathematicians, scholars, academics dedicated to peace forced to create implements of war, even the medicine. None of us wanted this, and now all we have left is our work. Work that we abhorred in life but is now the only thing that keeps us sane in this facsimile of life."

"Then allow us to help you, to give you purpose." Sarah said.

"To what end? To act as a conqueror, crushing others before you simply because they did not agree with you?"

"We don't do that. We aren't the Enclave. You said it yourself, we're the Brotherhood of Steel."

"Heh, not much of a better choice. Maybe your chapter chooses to interact and in some cases bring benefits to the world, but how long will that last? How long till reactionaries within stab you in the back and put the Brotherhood back to its 'traditions?' How long till one of your "comrades returned to service" those you called Outcasts try to destroy your Brotherhood? Even now they're trying to take power in the Citadel."

"How did you.."

"We have powerful sensors here, we pick up radio communications for hundreds of miles around. There is trouble back at the Citadel. Your leader has died of a stroke and there is a power struggle on."

"Brothers and Sisters, we must return. There is no way in hell I'm letting those bastards take the Brotherhood!"

"Before you go, a condition. To the South of the lands you call the Capital Wasteland is a coalition of slavers who call themselves the Klan. They have been besieging our fellows in the area once known as Norfolk. Aid them in clearing the Klan out of that area and we'll consider working with you."

"And how do we know you'll keep your end of the bargain?"

"You don't. For all you know I could just be leading you on. But know this: we are tired of war. We are tired of hate and oppression. For the time being, the Brotherhood is the best option for peace in these lands. However, I must warn you. Lose sight of yourselves, and we will bring you down. You may now leave."

Al watched the Brotherhood detachment leave and a melancholy thought came over him.

"I only hope that they stay true to their current ideals, for if they don't, it'll take them places some of them might not want to go."

 **AN. It's good to be back. I truly am sorry I haven't been able to update. I think I've got my inspiration back, so hopefully you'll see more of this story in the future. Like I say in my profile, I intend to see this story through to the end, come what may.**


	20. Chapter 20

**AN. Hallo, Buongiorno, Sveiki,여보세요, and Hej, I told you I was back! Without further ado, let us continue with the story.**

It was chaos as Taggart and the survivors of his expedition returned to the Citadel. Once they had reached Megaton, they had been greeted by the people there and made contact with other Brotherhood members. Everyone was relieved to see that most of those thought lost had survived, although there was definitely still mourning for those lost. However, Taggart noticed the worry that was still in the faces of his Brothers and asked,

"What is going on?"

"There's a power struggle in the Citadel. Elder Lyons has died and the Out...our returned Brothers are trying to assert themselves."

"My children, are they safe?"

"Under guard by loyal members."

Struck as he was by the death of his father in law, Taggart found relief that at least his children were safe in the middle of this. He knew what he needed to do.

"Radio for a Vertibird. I need to get to the Citadel."

A few minutes later, a vertibird appeared and they got to the launch pads. Taggart told Charon and Fawkes to stay behind. Even though most of the Brotherhood had grown used to them and some of them had even grown to like them, Taggart knew that there was still prejudices against them.

He only hoped that he wasn't too late.

* * *

Meanwhile at the Citadel, a multitude of arguments had broken out. People were arguing to and fro what the future of the Brotherhood should be. Most wanted to put Sarah in charge and be done with it until they could contact the Elders back West, but there were those who argued, with some reason, that they should contact the West immediately. They were even some radicals who thought, though they wouldn't say it out loud that they should just put Sarah in charge, to hell with the Elders who had betrayed them.

Amidst all of this, Paladin Casdin and Head Scribe Rothchild were arguing with each other.

"And I'm telling you, we need to contact the Elders, only they can appoint a new Elder!" Casdin roared.

"We need someone in charge right now. That is why I proposed putting Sarah Lyons in charge until we can stabilize our situation," Rothchild tried to sooth.

"And we need to follow protocol. These traditions have been passed down for generations and have not failed the Brotherhood yet. You may not care anymore, but we need to keep the traditions alive. If not, then our organization will cease to exist. The great Roger Maxson will have been dishonored, technology will fall to those unworthy of it, technology will be lost, there will be no more..."

"Paladin, I'm only going to say this once, so you can understand me. Where have you been the last five years? Because you certainly haven't been here."

"Excuse me!?" Casdin responded in indignation.

"You heard me, now shut up and listen!" Rothchild roared with an uncharacteristic venom.

"You and yours left, you couldn't stand what Lyons chose to do. There wasn't a day that went by after that that I didn't consider just leaving, just packing up as much of my equipment as I could and joining you and your Outcasts. Nevertheless, I felt that duty bade me stay by Lyon's side, and so I stayed. I watched our Brotherhood suffer, reduced to a pitiful remnant struggling to protect a people that barely cared about it. I watched young men and women, some of them who were just given a suit of Power Armor and a gun and told to go fight without any training beyond a minimum. I watched them fight for a cause they barely knew about, for a people that often didn't care for them, and I thought, 'There is more nobility in these savages of the Wasteland than there was in much of our own Brotherhood.' But I didn't come to this conclusion immediately."

"No, I only came to that conclusion when I met a particular Vault Dweller. He was young, in many ways scared of a big world that he knew little about, that was so much wider, brighter, and more dangerous than the Vault he had grown up in. But he still charged bravely after his father, seeking our help to do so. At the time I barely cared, I dismissed the boy. I thought that the Wasteland would eat him alive and spit out his carcass. But against all odds, he succeeded. He succeeded in many things that our own Brotherhood, for all its resources had failed. He had managed to find the source of the Super Mutants and wipe it out. In finding his father, he helped to make Project Purity a success. And as the Enclave came in, he helped smash them, once at the Jefferson Memorial and again at Adams."

"In all that time, our Chapter has advanced farther than any other. We've gained massive amounts of technology, pre-war, Enclave, and even Alien. We've developed our own technologies. Our Brotherhood has more capable members in it than I believe it has had since its foundation. We've helped to create a stable nation out of this Wasteland and have a ready pool of recruits. So I ask you again, where have you been? I'll tell you. Scavenging. Staying at Fort Independence and the surrounding area. You were little more than raiders. Oh sure, you had Power Armor and professed ideals, but when you get down to it, all you did was intimidate people in to giving up technology. Now in the case of weaponry, maybe it was justified, but when that technology could be used to support a community? No, nothing more than parasites. It is up to us now to turn you back into honorable Brothers and Sisters and to keep the peace in the Wasteland."

"That is not our prerogative and you know it!"

"It became our prerogative under Lyons and we shall continue to uphold it."

"Why Senior Scribe, I don't believe I've heard a more inspiring speech," a voice came.

Both of them turned around and saw Alec Taggart walking toward them.

"Paladin, Senior Scribe, although there were certainly setbacks, the mission to Dulles was a success. I negotiated with the natives for the Brotherhood to examine and assist with their technologies in return for supplies. I just need to table it with the rest of you in order to confirm it."

Rothchild chose this moment to press his point further.

"You see Casdin, even in what was seeming defeat, Sentinel Taggart has found victory."

"At the cost of our Brothers and Sisters."

"Sentinel Taggart, how many were lost on your expedition?"

Taggart stiffened and for a moment looked sad, before stating, "Six sir, with five walking wounded, and three seriously wounded. I've taken steps to notify the next of kin, where applicable."

Rothchild bowed his head for a moment and then said,

"May our fallen Brothers and Sisters rest in Steel now. In spite of the losses to his expedition, the good Sentinel has managed to secure our right to investigate the technologies of Dulles and a potential trading partner."

"Know this Casdin. From now on, there will never be a moment where your group won't be watched. Lyons may have welcomed you back with forgiveness, but don't expect us to trust you ever again."

Taggart laughed and then stated,

"Yeah, it'll be a lot harder for you to stab us in the back again when someone's watching you."

 **AN. I think I'll call my voting now and say that the British Isles seem to be the most popular choice for somewhere the Brotherhood would visit. Before I write that, I would like to solicit information from those who know the history perhaps a little more intimately than myself, but what was the UK like in the 1950's and 1960's? From what I understand, it was a period of decline where Britain lost her Empire and the Sun finally set, and then the British Invasion occurred.**

 **Edit: Also, in case anyone's wondering why I say hello in different languages throughout this story, it's my way of acknowledging the people of all nationalities that read my story. So thank you everyone, for taking time out of your day to read my story.**


	21. Chapter 21

**AN. Olá, kamusta, chào bạn, Pẹlẹ o, Sawubona, Здравейте,** **здраво, and** **Здравствуйте to the readers fromall the countries I have not yet acknowledged. This is going to be a ride, so buckle up and get ready.**

As the Vertibird touched down that evening, Sarah looked at her Brothers and Sisters. They were all tense, not knowing whether or not they would be fired upon when they exited the aircraft. Though initially relieved that she hadn't been, she noted their looks of concern and most infuriatingly, pity. She did not need their pity, and she would never show the pain that was welling up within. She marched straight to Rothchild, who she could see in front of her along with her husband (thank you whatever deities may be for at least saving him) she saluted and stated, "Sentinel Lyons reporting."

"For the time being, it is now Elder. We have been trying to contact the West, but until we can open communications with them, it has been decided that you will be the acting Elder."

"I shall see fit to carry on to the best of my abilities."

Rothchild and Taggart crisply saluted, and she saluted back. She turned around, and saluted to the gathered members of the Brotherhood. They all saluted back.

"Return to your posts."

All the assembled Brotherhood left at that moment.

* * *

Sarah went into the debriefing and described everything that had transpired on her expedition to the Proving Grounds, as they had come to be called by the people of the Brotherhood of Steel. Her debriefer had told her that she didn't have to do this now, that she could go rest, but she insisted on giving her debriefing while her memory was still fresh.

After that, she went to her quarters, and was greeted by Marie.

"Madame, are you alright?"

"Yes Marie, I'm fine. Could you go outside for a moment. I'd like to be with the children."

Marie paused for a moment, as if contemplating her next actions.

"Oui, madame."

With that, she left the room.

Sarah turned and looked at her children, and began to feel the emotions that she had been damming up begin to force themselves upon her last reserves of control.

"Momma?" came the voice of Erhard.

"Yes sweetie?" Sarah replied shakily.

"Where's Grandpapa? He promised to tell a story."

That did it, she ran into her own room and began crying like she had never cried before. All throughout her life she had been expected to be strong, and she had been, so this was an entirely new situation for her.

The door creaked a bit, and she looked to see Taggart, who was carrying something. Without a word he sat down next to her, and stared at the wall for a moment.

Then he hugged her, and she wept into his shoulder.

It was then she looked closely into his face, and saw that he was crying too. Faintly, she could also hear the sounds of the twins crying in the next room.

"...Rothchild gave this to me. He said...he said that 'Elder Lyons made it in case something like this happened and that you need to hear it.'"

In his hand was a holotape. Sarah took it and put it in the Holotape Player.

"If you'll excuse me, I think this was meant for your ears alone. I'll go and try to calm the twins down."

With that, Taggart went into the other room and left Sarah alone with her thoughts and this recording.

She pressed play and from the Holotape Player came the words of her Father.

"This is Elder Lyons, serial number 102377 recording December 30, 2279. I have entrusted this holotape to the care of Head Scribe Rothchild such that in the event of my death it would reach my daughter, Sentinel Sarah Lyons. Sarah, if you are hearing this, then it means that I have passed on. I'm so sorry for leaving you like this, but it was my time. I...I've lived a long life, longer than many in this world. I've seen so much over the course of my life. I've seen the Chosen One and the results of his fight with the Enclave on the West Coast, I saw you born, I saw our Brotherhood change before my very eyes. I saw that we were becoming too much like the Enclave. I volunteered for the expedition East to ruminate on my thoughts. As I traveled, I saw the devastation of the land, how the people were suffering, how many needed help. Once I got to the Pitt, I was nearly broken, so much suffering, so many lives destroyed over what seem now like trivial differences. In anger I ordered the Scourge, and rescued those who could be rescued from the Pitt. I regret leaving Paladin Ashur in the Pitt. Past that, I regret nothing over the course of the life I've led. I'm proud of how our Brotherhood has grown, and of how you've grown. I'm proud of the grandchildren you've given me, and the son-in-law you've married. While I do not wish to inflict the duty upon you, I nominate you for the position of Elder of the East Coast chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel. Hopefully, the other Elders and High Elder will see reason. May Steel be with you, daughter."

With that, the recording ended. Sarah Lyons left the room and went to her husband, busy calming down the twins.

"We must be strong in the coming days, not just for the twins, not just for the Brotherhood, not just for the citizens of the Wasteland, but for each other."

"Yes, Elder Lyons," replied Taggart.

It hurt Sarah to hear that. For most of her life, Elder Lyons had been her father. To hear the title now just reminded herself of the void in her life, but she steeled herself and got ready to face the coming days.

 **AN. I freely admit I only have a loose understanding of military tactics and strategy. If any of you readers have any such knowledge, I would ask you to share such that I can make a more accurate experience. The future of the story has bigger scale military action than typically happens in Fallout Stories, so I'd like to be able to bounce ideas around so I make sure I get the details right.**


	22. Chapter 22

**AN. After so long, it's finally here! I'm so sorry this took so long. I just had no clue how to advance the story. My beta reader also got busy with their life and I respect their input. So, without further ado...**

"...Elder Lyons was one of the best men I ever knew. While...while he and I certainly had our disagreements over the years, he always knew he had my support. Steel be with you Lyons. May you forever rest in Steel," Head Scribe Rothchild eulogized.

"May he forever rest in Steel," the congregation of Brotherhood and representatives of the towns intoned.

The Brotherhood had gathered its personnel that weren't urgently required at the frontier or in reserve to mourn and to remember their fallen Elder.

It was now Taggart's turn to come up to the podium and deliver his eulogy. As he did, everyone's eyes were upon him, gauging what he had to say.

Taggart cleared his throat and began.

"Brothers, Sisters, fellow citizens of the Capital Wasteland, we are here to commemorate the death of a great man. Though many of you have certainly known him longer than I have, I have met no finer man than him. When I came out of the Vault four years ago, I was scared and searching for my father. In my search, I came across the Brotherhood. They had no real obligation to help me, besieged on three fronts as they were by the Super Mutants, Raiders, and the Enclave."

"And yet, they gave me aid. They gave me intelligence that I would not have otherwise found. They gave me resources, perhaps begrudgingly, but they gave all the same. And most of all, they gave me a cause to fight for. I acknowledge that perhaps this mission, the protection of the good people of the Capital Wasteland was not the mission that many of you had set out for this land to achieve, but it meant everything for the people of these lands. To be able to sleep soundly at night, without fear of slavers, of raiders, of super mutants come to kill you or worse."

Taggart paused for a bit, emotions running higher and higher.

"After the events surrounding the restart of Project Purity, the loss of my father, I was without direction. I had no idea what to do. But out of it all, there came one conviction. To fight for the Brotherhood against the Enclave, to bring vengeance upon those who had killed my Father. And again, the Brotherhood gave me that chance. I assisted the strike against the Enclave. As I entered Project Purity's core to restart the system, as I lay being bombarded with radiation, all I could think of was, 'I only wish I knew what happens next.' Two weeks later, I awoke from the effects to find Elder Lyons by the side of my bed, concerned for me in the manner my father had when I was but a boy. From him, I found out that the Brotherhood was making a final push against the Enclave. And so, I went out and helped the Brotherhood win the day once more."

"Once the Enclave were defeated, all I could think was 'What do I do now?' Oh sure, there were other events, such as the Aliens and Point Lookout, but after that, really nothing of note. Once the Enclave were gone, the loss of my family and the loss of what had been my home for most of my life hit me, and I broke down. It was Elder Lyons that gave me the strength to go on, the strength to believe in a cause. That is why to me, he will always be the greatest man that I had ever known."

"And so, we must continue the work he has set before us. We are the Brotherhood of Steel! We survived the Great War, we took a savage land that had never known true organization and turned it into a functioning country! For the Brotherhood! Ad Victoriam!"

"AD VICTORIAM" came the rousing cry from those gathered.

"Thank you for your time, I relinquish the podium to Elder Lyons."

* * *

"So there's a group of slavers to the South who are trying to revive Antebellum America?" asked Taggart.

"Ante-what?" Sarah asked.

"Antebellum America refers to the time between the War of 1812 and the Civil War in which there was a period of relative peace within the country masking racial and political tensions."

Everyone stared at Taggart.

"What, there isn't much to do for fun in a Vault as an intellectual other than read from the Library of Congress on Holotape."

"Regardless, do you really think it's wise to trust these Brains?" asked Star Paladin Cross.

"I think so. They had a perfect opportunity to take us out and they didn't. I think they want to do business," said Sarah.

"Alright. Leaving all that aside, we should at least still make contact with the Seed Vault. That seems like a priority. If we are going to be doing extended operations, we'll need the supplies," said a Scribe named Teagan.

"We also need to send a team to Dulles."

"Actually, in light of recent events, I was thinking of adding another group. I was thinking about the raider attack and realized that we don't need every scribe working in the field. We need some of them doing research in safety. I was thinking of naming this organization the Proctors," said Taggart.

"I like it, what of the rest of you?" asked Elder Lyons.

"No objections?"

"Motion carried."

"Back on topic, we'll need to organize another team to discuss terms with the Brains, make certain that we get the best possible deal from this development. Further, we'll need to send scouts in order to determine what sort of opponent the Klan are."

"If I may," Taggart stated.

"Yes, Sentinel Taggart?" Elder Lyons asked.

"On the off chance that it might mean something, I asked the Regulators as they conduct patrols into the area, and they told me some interesting facts about the Klan. As stated previously, the Klan is primarily attempting to emulate the Ante-Bellum South, racism, misogyny, slavery and all. However, the people in charge down there are no fools, they recognize that they need industry in order to preserve their little slavers paradise, hence why they were besieging Norfolk. The Regulators are currently waging a low scale Guerilla war in the Klan's territory, so if we can get more supplies to them, we might just be able to get a large scale revolt going."

"Are they a threat to us?"

"Potentially. They are well armed, with tanks and small amounts of Power Armor although they possess no means of producing more. They haven't fought large armies in a while, so we have an advantage there."

"Then let it be so. Ad Victoriam."

"Ad Victoriam," everyone said.

And thus began the Brotherhood-Klan War.

And war. War never changes.

 **AN. Finally. Remember, please give me constructive criticism as it's how I improve the story. I'd like to write the story for England but I'm not sure what really defined 50's Britain other than it being a period of decline for the United Kingdom.**


	23. Chapter 23

**AN. The next chapter, I'm so sorry this has taken so long. With that said...**

The newly promoted Scribe Haylen was nervous as she got on a vertibird for the second time in a week bound for Dulles. While she did not doubt that they had secured a peace of sorts with the inhabitants at Dulles, she was still nervous.

"Are you alright?" asked the Knight next to her.

"I'm fine, just a little nervous."

"YOU'RE nervous? At least you have some experience with these people."

"Not much, what experience I do have is limited to staying in a cell and the Lone... the Sentinel telling us what he had learned on his tour."

"Again, some experience is better than no experience whatsoever. Mind sharing so the rest of us have some clue as to what we're getting into?"

At that, everyone else that was in the vertibird leaned forward in anticipation of what Haylen had to say. From the least experienced to the most grizzled veteran, all were eager to hear what Haylen had to say, as she was the only one among them who had been among the savages of Dulles.

"W-well, I wouldn't exactly call the Wastelanders of Dulles savages. They have a society, even if it is very different from what most of us are used to. They call themselves the Wrights after the Wright Brothers, apparently the first people to fly. They seek to fly and are working towards making their aircraft airworthy again."

"I apologize for interrupting, but that sounds a lot like a tribe that our Western Brothers have encountered. The Boomers if I remember correctly. What makes these Wrights different from the Boomers?"

"For one thing, they don't want to just restore one plane, they want to restore many planes. Further, the Museum of Aviation, an offshoot of the Museum of Technology in the Downtown DC area had dedicated machine shops for just such a purpose. The area was not a priority for bombing during the Great War and the military units that were there shot down the few bombers and missiles that came close to it. There was apparently a vault in the airport, and the people waited out the Great War in there."

"That Vault, Vault 69 was an exercise in gender imbalance. It was intended to study the effects of a continuous gender imbalance upon a society."

"But Scribe Haylen, wouldn't an equal number of male and female children being born into such a society eventually bring it up to the normal half and half ratio?"

"Normally it would, but Vault-Tec knew how to manipulate things for their results. They chose people for the vault on the basis of their DNA, namely that they would produce healthy and strong females and weak and sickly males. Further, they selected for hemophilia."

"As it so happened, the women became stronger by necessity and their society became a matriarchal society. They were fortunate when their vault opened that they were not instantly set upon by Raiders, and so they were able to recover military equipment that survived. There were some military vehicles at Dulles as it was a minor military base as well as some artillery from around the area. They went further south and found an arsenal and made off with the weaponry there as well."

"By virtue of having their machine shops, they were able to make replacement parts for their weaponry. However, their water supply is tenuous, and that is why they wish to trade with us."

"Coming up on their base now," said the pilot.

Unlike the last time Haylen was here, people weren't trying to shoot her down, so that was a plus.

As they touched down, the ranking member of their group, a Paladin by the name of Sandra spoke up and said, "Alright, remember ladies, we're representing the Brotherhood, so be on your best behavior."

As they exited their vertibirds, the woman that was known to at least the veterans of the first expedition as the Matriarch came out under guard and approached the Brotherhood members.

She smiled and said,

"Welcome, members of the Brotherhood, to Dulles."

 **AN. This chapter did not go through my beta reader so the quality of this chapter may not be up to par with the rest. Again, please send me constructive criticism through the reviews so I can make the story better. What do you all think?**


	24. Chapter 24

**AN. It's been a long while hasn't it? The person I usually have beta read this story has been disheartened by the events of the last year and has taken a break from writing and I respect both their opinions and their decision. If anyone would like to beta read for the story, I would be grateful. With that said, let us continue the story. To paraphrase Sander Cohen (and clean up a bit from it) my muse is a fickle one. Opinions would be greatly appreciated. I'm going to see if I can force myself to write more for this.**

 **Edit: This thing is finally as finished as I can get it. I'll do what I can to continue from here, and would like to take this opportunity to direct people to a story that I am currently a beta for. It is called Rose's Grimm and is set in RWBY. The story revolves around a powerful and hyper intelligent Grimm that has fallen for a certain character, but to say any further would be spoiling, so please go read the story.**

While he was in the area, Taggart decided to take a sounding on the opinions of the Capitol Wasteland. He traveled between the different communities that he wasn't banned from and shot the breeze with them. Most were sad, but cautiously optimistic that things would ultimately work out for the better.

It was as he was discussing things at the bar in Rivet City that he was approached by a man named Dr. Zimmer. He kept going on about something named Synths and how it was his job to hunt them down. From what Taggart knew of them, the Institute were a very advanced group that existed in what used to be called the Commonwealth around the area of Boston, but prior to this he hadn't paid them much mind. After all, they had never really been contacted by the group before, and there were pressing concerns at hand.

Still, his comment about how Synths were so advanced that they could replace humans stuck with him. What if this had happened to anyone in the Brotherhood. They would be so close to humans that barring death and an autopsy (or careful questioning), no one would ever know that a person had been replaced. A very horrifying thought.

That said, if they were escaping the Institute, then that meant not all of them agreed with the Institutes ideals. Deciding that he needed more information, Taggart pretended to go through with Zimmer's request, but in actuality he was going to get the other side of the story.

It was shortly after this encounter, as he was making his way towards Little Lamplight that he was approached by a woman. And that was when he found out about the Railroad.

"So please, remind me again what exactly the Railroad is?"

"Well, our mission is to rescue Synths from the clutches of the Institute and get them to safety."

"And a synth is essentially a manufactured human?"

"Yup. And we need your help to get them resettled."

Taggart sighed at that, 'another person who wants my help who could do it themselves.'

"Alright, what do you need me to do?"

* * *

"And that's essentially what happened. I got the synths resettled, and that was that."

Taggart was now back at the Citadel giving his AAR to Elder Lyons and her council.

"Most intriguing. And more than a little disturbing. So these "synths" you say. They can perfectly mimic humans?"

"To all intents and purposes, they essentially are a human with some key components altered and an inability to reproduce."

"This 'Institute,' if it wanted to, could kill one of our members and replace them with their own and no one would be the wiser! We need to do something about this!" cried one of the younger members of the council.

"And what would you propose for us to do?" Senior Scribe Rothchild asked. "We have no current means of discerning synths from humans."

"We can't just sit here and do nothing!"

"I agree, but at the moment, we have bigger problems closer to home to deal with. I propose we put together a team to research these synths as necessary, but the Commonwealth is an expedition for another day."

"All in favor of Senior Scribe Rothchild's proposal, say aye," Elder Lyons asked.

A majority of ayes came round the room, with a few scattered nays.

"The ayes have it. For now, the Columbian Wasteland is our focus. The Commonwealth will have to wait for another day."

 **AN. As always, read and review. If anyone would like to beta read, please let me know.**


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